


Like Sunshine in My Veins; He Made Me Smile

by piq_snine



Series: Watcher in the Night; Lover in the Day [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bilbo is a BAMF, BoFA, Cannon Divergence, Denied Release, Durincest, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Porn, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Frottage, Graphic, Incest, Light Bondage, M/M, Mpreg, Nobody Dies, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Frustration, Thorin being an idiot, Torture, Where the hell is Gandalf?, banishment (not the usual kind), dark!Fili, dub-con, forgot about the incest, handjob, i don't like mincing graphics, possible triggers, somebody hug Fili
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 18:30:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 132,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piq_snine/pseuds/piq_snine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've reclaimed Erebor, they've defeated the dragon, and Fili isn't about to ruin any chance of staying by his brother's side. That is, until he realizes he's pregnant. He can't blame anyone else but himself for breaking the law. This is his burden, his guilt, his child, and he won't allow Kili to ruin his own chance as crowned prince. </p>
<p>Bilbo Baggins, burgler and traitor, is banished alongside the direputable and ostricized prince. Standing infront of her green door again, she looks at Fili, his stomach swelling with child too, and places one foot infront of the other, until they can't any more, then does it again. </p>
<p>They eventually find themselves in the Forodwaith, adopted by a clan of dwarves they've never heard of, and Fili is challenged at every possible angle by this infuriating blood-red-headed dwarf. He definately won't say he hates him, but he certainly does want to kill him... most days. But the male just smiles and the ice in Fili's veins melts a little more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - "This Dwarf Will be the Death of Me"

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything... including the upcoming 'blood-red-headed' dwarf. That character belong's to dwalinroxxx on tumblr (he'd been inspired by this dwarf, so bod-mod, and character name differes). Please thank her for this wonderful character... now, to butcher cannon, character, and hearts!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please read the tags, carefully.

It had been hot in the kitchen, or that’s what Fíli had blamed the flush in his cheeks for. Coming in from the freezing wind and whipping snow the kitchen seemed like an oven with its prickling heat against his face. His beard and mustache were frozen, dripping with thawing snow – he really wished he hadn’t lost his kerchief. The droplets of water trickled down his throat and made a cold trail down his chest. He was hyperaware of how close they were for all that he tried not to shift under the tickling touch of water down his chest for fear of triggering Erlen into a tussle.

His golden eyes glowed against the light of the fire and his skin looked just as chilled as Fíli’s own, uncomfortable in the heat of the kitchen. Erlen hadn’t lost his kerchief for it was tied snuggly around his face where only his eye brows and red, red eyelashes were frosted, covered in the melting flakes of ice. Fíli, distracted, watched the snow melt off Erlen’s eyelashes, watched as every time he blinked, they were deposited on his high cheekbones. Fíli realized that he was staring and not answering Erlen’s challenge as he should have. But Aulë he wanted to touch those icy lashes.

“What?” Fíli finally stammered out, feeling the braids of his beard dripping more ice down his front. It tickled more and he couldn’t help the small shift to attempt to get his tunic to absorb the water. He knew what his twitching would have done to Erlen, and he hated it when he was right. Fíli’s shoulder rolled back, trying to pull his tunic tighter against his chest, but it only made the red-headed dwarf invade more of his personal space. If Fíli thought it was warm earlier, the heat was near breathtaking when Erlen’s body heat somehow absorbed through the thick layers of Fíli’s furs.

“You heard me, pretty boy.” Though no longer a boy, and hardly pretty in Fíli’s opinion, Erlen’s words made him shiver harder than when his son threw snow down the back of his shirts. His reaction didn’t go unnoticed as Erlen’s eyes shifted minutely, from locking Fíli’s own blue-green ones, to trailing halfway down his face then thinking twice of it. By then Fíli saw how the golden orbs were almost completely swallowed up by the black of his eyes.

“I- er,” Fíli stumbled for words. He took a small step back with his weak foot, a mistake worse than turning your back on a spine-backed _harupt_. And Erlen attacked as quickly as the furry creature. Immediately he invaded his space, wide shoulders crowding Fíli’s view. Large hands, a bowman’s hands (hand’s that he was very familiar with when they touched naked skin) reached up to pull down his brown kerchief, and Erlen’s warm breath, still smelling of the sugar cakes from before, rolled over Fíli’s face.

The blond prince inhaled, realizing he had been holding his breath, and caught whiff of the other dwarf’s musk. _Dear Aul_ ë _this dwarf_! Fíli finally held his ground, chests bumping into each other as he would have any other challenge by a dwarf. Only this time he was aware of his hearing going fuzzy when he collided with the larger male’s solid form.  Erlen was larger than him, larger than his former king, and wider than Dwalin. He was large without being excessively bulky, as it wouldn’t do him good as a bowman. Erlen was simply solid, and very warm, very, very warm.

“If you’ve got words with me, ye’d better say them now.” Erlen seemed to grow larger, he now filled all of Fíli’s vision. “Else wise, there’s no telling what might I do next.”

Fíli felt, rather than saw, the red-head’s right arm move up the side of his body, though not touching. The pressure, the feeling of a predator moving in on you, ghosted up the side of his arm leaving a trail of gooseflesh in its wake. The long, large arm rested just above Fíli’s shoulder and cushioned itself on the padding of the blonde’s coats. He heard Erlen’s fingers dig into the wood beside his hooded head.

Never one to back down, Fíli swelled his chest, stood straighter, so that his nose _just_ bumped against the larger dwarf’s chin. Erlen stiffened with Fíli’s movements, no doubt expecting an attack. Fíli lifted his hand from where it gripped the pommel of his short sword at his belt and purposefully dragged it against Erlen’s exposed side. Shocked, but not so startled into backing down, the barbarian’s left hand mimicked its right and planted itself against the other side of Fíli’s head, effectively trapping him.

There was the feeling of something tugging deep inside Fíli, though where it came from he didn’t know, it tugged and pulled and made the air cackle around them as if a white bolt of sky fire were going to land between them. Touch was muted behind the thick glove, Fíli wanted to take it off, to feel Erlen’s leather, but he dragged it harder up his sides, making sure the red-head could feel his touch through the fabric and furs.

Erlen’s eyes were blown wide open, whether the beast inside or something else brewed in them, Fíli didn’t want to know. All he needed, was the feeling of Erlen grasped between his hands, that firm, full body pinned underneath his hands, breath coming uneven until his back bowed with pleasure. The image of what the other dwarf would look like in fire light, body glistening with sweat, his red, rope-like hair singing with his beads as he tossed his head to and fro. Fíli suddenly wanted to hear what type of sounds he could drag out of this dwarf.

His hands made it to the junction of torso and arms, Fíli hesitated before allowing his hands to roam to the broad expanse of back, just on the bone blade of his shoulders. Erlen crowded even more, _soon_ , Fíli felt the man’s hips draw nearer to his own. Soon, Erlen would feel what was inside of his trousers, his fire-hot rod ready to pound. Fíli gasped at the image of shoving his cock between mounds of flesh, or the tender melt of another’s between his legs.

“Ew.” Came a small, bell-like voice. Fíli’s head snapped toward the sound, unlike one would against an enemy, rather than a papa would at being caught stealing kisses by his son. Fíli’s eyes went impossibly round at what his son may be seeing. Erlen, the boy’s self-proclaimed father, pressing hips against his papa, arms pinned against the wall behind him, his own traitorous hands splayed across the larger dwarf’s back. Both breathing too hard.

“Oi, little tyke!” Erlen unhurriedly broke contact, easily pulling out of Fíli’s hold. “What’re you doin’ up? Eh? Little boy’s should be in bed.”

Erlen left Fíli shaking against the wall, the smaller dwarf’s knees almost buckling. It was all of a sudden too hot for any amount of clothing. But the former prince wouldn’t lose all sense of propriety just because he couldn’t keep his libido in check.

The larger dwarf knelt down in front of Fíli’s blonde son, and picked him up with the same ease and care one would have for a new born kitten. And Fíli had been surprised with how gentle the other dwarf - usually brash, careless with words and actions – was with a newborn animal. Kitten, mutt, sheep, or any of the other herds they had. The man, when given a new born animal, melted. It was almost unsettling with how lit the man’s face would become, tenderly prodding a head to hold itself up, or how carefully the dwarf would handle Fíli’s son.

The boy held out his tired arms to be picked up, sleepy eyes half closed by the time his head hit his ‘father’s’ shoulders. Erlen patted the boy’s back and quietly trod down the hall, humming out of tune under his breath.

Fíli dragged a shaking, gloved hand across his face, tugging punishingly against his beard. He grunted, threw his head back into the wall and let out a huge sigh. His cock still throbbed as he remembered the feeling of the dwarf underneath his hands. That blasted dwarf who had _flexed_ when dragging his hands across Erlen’s back. The musk caught in his nose and wouldn’t leave, the heat in his body stolen from that golden-eyed man. And his eyes, those eyes that burned into his soul every time he caught him staring at Fíli.

“This dwarf will be the death of me.”


	2. Praying for More Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't the first time, nor the last, when he thought a dwarf would be the end of him. But his brother's talented tongue and wicked smile would certainly undo him. 
> 
> Or perhaps, the elf, cold with starlight, and as gentle as a rolling brook in a shaded glen, would be his demise. 
> 
> Or the morning sickness, that came at the wrong time.

“This dwarf will be the death of me.” Fíli remembers saying this once with such fondness, wishing, hoping against hopes that laws would suddenly re-write itself, or that the mountain would never be claimed. All so that he could endear himself closer to his younger brother than was proper for a prince. Oh, such incestuous relationships wouldn’t be illegal for commoners, but those within the royal family were expected to bring in new lines, and the possibility of either brother becoming pregnant from the other was too large of a risk for this family. Fíli cursed himself again for being the dark-haired dwarf’s blood. If only they hadn’t been related Fíli would have bedded the rambunctious dwarf decades ago.

As it was, he was tortured with having his brother sleep close next to him, of having to see his naked body when bathing, of having him tucked underneath his chin to keep him from shivering with fear against the booming sky-fire. Right now though, Kíli was doing his best to sexually frustrate the older dwarf, and for those who would say ‘unwittingly’ would have been wrong. Kíli would look over his shoulder, right at his brother, whenever reaching into his pack, bent over at the waist, hair falling over his eyes or when he would drag his nails across his chest lazily next to the fire after a good smoke. Or when he would repeatedly taste his lips after they stole kisses behind a bush.

Yes, the youngest Durin heir would someday kill Fíli of sexual frustration. He knew where the lines were drawn. Thorin couldn’t separate the boys; Kíli’s sudden arrival at Bilbo’s doorstep was proof of that. There wasn’t anything that the brothers, simply being brothers, could be separated from. Let alone the fact that both boys seemed drawn to the other. They knew their place though, they knew enough to never tumble around when one could easily be banished. Or worse. No, they knew enough to only touch, hug, grip, pull, trap, kiss, and embrace each other before they would ever lay with another. They couldn’t endanger their relationship with such wonton desire.

Instead, they kissed, and sucked on each other where it could easily be hidden, or eventually fade. But this time, instead of mouth Kíli used his strong hands to drive his brother insane.

“Kee, please, no, stop.” Fíli covered his mouth, hoping for his voice not to rise too loudly in the night. Kíli watched his brother slowly loose it. They rubbed their hips together, firmly pressed against the other. Fíli could feel Kíli’s length, rubbing wet circles against his britches. The hands though, Mahal, the hands. Rough from sword training, and endless hours of building a thick enough callous for archery, Kíli’s hands were firm and gripping at Fíli’s sensitive sides. Nails dug into ribs as the older prince tried to contain his breath.

“Don’t hold back now, brother.” Kíli suddenly latched himself to the side of Fíli’s neck, teasing with the implications of leaving bruises for other’s to see. An open mouthed kiss, a gentle sucking not enough to satisfy and not light enough to ignore, teeth grazed a pulse, fluttering like a butterfly’s wings. Fíli shivered as he was almost close to finishing, he held back though, wanting to greedily snatch up as much time as they had together, to prolong the inevitable departure. Kíli’s rough hands gripped hard on Fíli’s ribcage, bruised and scraped from falling through trees, fingernails scraped punishingly against every bone. Pre-ejaculate stained his trousers now, his small clothes not soaking up enough, he would have to bath with all his clothes now he was so wet because of his brother.

Royalty had rules, they had rules. They _shouldn’t_ rub on each other, clothes were to remain on, nothing below the waist exposed, no penetration, no touching the other’s cock (through cloth or skin), and definitely no bruising where others could see. Kíli was, as always, sorely pushing the edges of the rules. He made Fíli want to throw off his own clothing and spread himself on Kíli’s spear. He wanted to feel hips pounding against his, to know what the feeling of Kíli’s flesh felt like, deeply molded inside his body.

Fíli swallowed a groan, throaty and clogged with desire. Kíli ducked his head and dived for his brother’s waist line, where his hips jutted out of his trousers. He bit ruthlessly, lapped at wet skin, sucked bruises so dark they seemed black and Fíli responded appropriately. Hips thrust, trying to get Kíli, though against the rules, to touch his weeping, strained cock. Kíli dutifully dodged his older brother’s attempts and attacked the hips again, one of Fíli’s weak spots.

“Come.” Was the simple command, and Fíli unleashed his desire. All those pent up emotions draining his body, fraying at the ends, he unraveled underneath his brother. Kíli let out a groan, watching his brothers face as he lost himself to pleasure.

The elder’s orgasm still wracked his body as Kíli stood up, resituated himself, and pulled Fíli’s shirts down. The blond almost fell, boneless, onto the forest floor, and wanted to curl up with his brother in post-coital bliss. But Kíli, ever faithful Kíli, tugged on his hand, getting him over to the creek they had conveniently found earlier.

Before joining his brother, Fíli pulled out all the knives and weapon’s he habitually hides on his person and placed them into a pile next to the firewood they were gathering. Patting himself down one last final time, Fíli found something hard in his pockets he had half forgotten about. It was a vial, a small one, of the elvish wine they had been told not to drink. It’s potency, they had been told, was higher than either of the young one’s could handle, and Bofur’s drunkenness had been the example of low tolerance. Fíli smiled when he remembered his brother wanted a sip back in Rivendell.

“Here.” He found himself saying before tossing the bottle to his bathing brother. “Got this for you, if you water it down I’m sure you wouldn’t get too drunk.”

Fíli waded into the water, watching how his brother realized what was in the contents of the vial.

“Did you-?”  Kíli asked unbelievingly.

“Yeah.” Fíli replied.

“And Thorin-“

“Nope.”

“Do you-?” Kíli offered, unstoppering the delicate looking bottle.

“No. It’s yours.” Kíli took a mouthful of water then took a small pull from the bottle. It burned all the way down his throat. His younger brother coughed before stoppering it again and looking, drunkenly, to Fíli.

“Come here, love.” Yep, already drunk. Fíli smiled and followed Kíli down with a searing kiss.

Clean and now burdened with firewood, the brothers made their way back to camp. The others weren’t idiots, by any measure; they knew what the princes got up to on their own. It was only respect for their situation they didn’t mention any of it. Not even their sodden clothes and leafy hair.

An icy stare followed them, covetous in desire. He wanted what they had, he wanted it with _her._ That blasted, infuriating female. Instead of chastising himself or them, he turned his thoughts inwards. Wondering, planning, just in case they broke the rules, at what he would need to do as king. Which one would become ripe, and which would have to be sent away.

Walking past his brother, Kíli broke another rule; he grabbed a handful of Fíli’s arse before depositing his armload next to the freshly dug fire pit. Fíli sighed, wistfully, longingly, with suffering, and exasperation, and smiled at his brother.

Later that night, curled with the other against a winter wind, Fíli silently whispered sweet nothings into the brunette’s ears. Petting his wild hair, kissing his crown, and tugging his brother closer, Fíli wished from all the Illuvatar that they could be granted this night forever. That the sun wouldn’t rise and they could be together in this limbo.

 

_Two weeks later…_

“Tell me again, dwarf, how you plan to escape me?” Pinned by arms no larger than twigs, a heavily perfumed body, lithe, tall, elegant and towering – so unlike his brother – held him in place against the wall.

Fíli had tried to escape the mad king before, and ended up tied for his efforts and left to wriggle as helplessly as he had been tied in burlap sacks. Before finding himself trapped by the elven king, Fíli had been busy trying to pour himself a cup of water from the food tray sent to him, when Thranduil snuck up behind him and dragged him against the wall.

The king didn’t look it, frail looking as a dry branch, but he held Fíli so completely that the young dwarf had no option except to remain where he was. Though that didn’t mean he couldn’t struggle.

Thranduil had come by his cell, staring into it, where he sat in a corner, dirty, dry sweat and remnants of spider webs clinging to his body and beard. Fíli stared back, as threatening as he could with no words, and smiled at the fae king. Thranduil would stiffen, throw up his haughty nose, and turn on point and walk away.

Fíli had later not thought anything of it when he was led out of his cell and into a chamber with a crystal clear pool. There were winding tree roots that looked to be weaved along the edges of the bath. He had been instructed to clean himself and then been left alone by his guards. He had thought about running, but the water called to him, his stench of travel told him to undress and relax in the warm looking pool. He lost time in there, bathing and relaxing his aching muscles, that when he opened his eyes the ethereal lights had dimmed, or was it light from the outside, dripping into the inner chambers of this kingdom in a tree? He got out, patted himself dry with the softest linens he’d ever experienced, and noticed a dreadful thing.

His clothes were gone. Replaced by a delicate pile of elven clothing that he assumed, was expected to wear. Rebuffed, he walked past the guards, still dripping water from his hair, and marched back to his cell. If Thranduil wanted to know if he was given the option to be naked or wear elven clothing… he obviously had his answer. He made his way back to his cell, as cocky as he had been walking through Bilbo’s green door, many elves giving him strange looks, none appreciating (“Fine by me.” Said Fíli aloud), when a red haired elf, a female, came walking up the steps. She stopped, never moving her gaze south of Fíli’s eyes, and smiled.

“Well, Kíli said you were stubborn.” His eyes narrowed, how dare she talk about his… his… brother. “Blanket? Since you obviously loath clothing.”

“Only those of elfish make, my lady, especially those from your king.” Fíli bowed, he never really had anything against elves (and his brother surely didn’t, he found out after Rivendell that he had bedded a particular elf. To that Fíli had punished him as much as was allowed by their rules.), just against Thranduil.

“Ah.” She said delicately. She handed over the fresh blanket to which he accepted gratefully. It was settling into winter, even here, and he would be loath to lose anything sensitive.

That was earlier today, now though, Thranduil had him, without clothes or blanket, and he leaned closer than Fíli wished he would. His breath non-descript, no smell of food, or of a swish, or drink of any kind only the musty smell of damp wood in a cold spring rain clung to the elf’s body.

Roll after roll, after tumble, Thranduil had claimed Fíli. The dwarf had been made to drink from an elixir, which made him more amiable under the elf’s touch. Fíli’s skin had been on fire, every touch a cool contradiction to what he felt. He melted underneath the king’s gentle touch, he moaned like a whore upon the male’s shaft. Skin peppered with kisses, lingering in the memory of touch only. Hands ghosted against Fíli, touching, molding, mapping and remembering. The prince hated the attention, but lavished in its feeling.

After the elixir had been burned out of his blood, Fíli found himself still moaning under touch and under cock. He clawed for more, digging hands and heels into the body on top of him, barely able to pretend that it was Kíli instead of this elf. Thranduil never kissed him, not on the lips; something so loving couldn’t be imparted upon such a lowly creature, surely. Fíli remembered the man’s breath ghosting across his face, the kings so close to him he could see the flecks of starlight imprinted in the man’s cold gaze. It had been a near thing- his kisses- Thranduil reached down, as if to meet Fíli’s lips, and stopped a hair’s breadth away, driving the smaller male to grunt and moan, to eventually cry out his name.

After Thranduil had silently climaxed, controlled even then, eyes burning into Fíli’s, to always be remembered in this moment, Fíli was pulled, boneless, into his own dwarven clothing, still dirty, and brought back to his cell.

He ached, deep inside, in his hips (at being bent for so long), in his back (from bowing from numerous climaxes), and in his head (from when he had been drugged), and Fíli never allowed himself to cry. Not even once. He just felt empty, used, so hollow and yet, disgustingly enough, he felt fulfilled. He had found out what the male’s shaft felt like, between his legs, buried deep stroking him further than any had ever went. The feel of the elf’s cum seeping out of him made him shiver, though from what he didn’t know.

He curled up tighter, made himself as small as he could, to escape what he had just experienced. He sighed at the impossible reality of it, and fell into an exhausted sleep unaware of a seed which had taken root even deeper than the king had delved.

When he woke, Fíli was faintly aware that his brother was calling out to him. His head was muddled from whatever Thranduil had given him. His body stiff and sore where it shouldn’t be from travel, Fíli pushed himself up. The clanging of keys woke him up completely, vaguely afraid it was Thranduil for him again. But it was only their burgler, Miss Baggins, and Kíli, looking frantic and worried, hair pulled and mussed in different places.

“We need to go,” Bilbo shushed the near panicking Kíli, “now is our only chance.”

Bilbo’s pleading, sorrowful eyes begged Fíli to get up. She knew, somehow she knew, and Fíli didn’t like it. Tightening his tunic around him, he allowed his brother to grab his hand (it burned in his grip, like coals heated by guilt) and lead him out of the cell.

The company of Thorin Oakenshield silently made their way through the winding halls of the elven kingdom. Fíli expected to recognize any of the twists and turns they made, but this path Bilbo led them on, only drove them deeper into the kingdom. The elder prince was familiar with the ones that lead upstairs.

“What’s wrong?” Kíli breathed quietly beside him. Fíli flinched from his proximity and attempted to placate his brother through looks. They were off. Kíli could usually read his brother so effortlessly, but he struggled with the subtleties of Fíli’s communication.

“Nothing.” Fíli finally conceded. They both received a glare from Nori, they were being too loud, and pressed on behind everyone, Ori in front of them.

Freedom came at a price. As Fíli was to find out. They took their barrel ride, almost losing Bilbo in the white waters. Kíli almost fell to a sickness from an orc’s arrow, if not for the red-headed elf, Tauriel, he would have surely lost his brother. Then, the dragon came for Lake-town, at the worst of times.

Fíli had been feeling faint and ill all evening, the night before was no consolation either. Two days Thorin and the other’s had been gone, headed up to the mountain and left a weakened Kíli, a drunken Bofur, Oin, and himself behind in the stilted town.

The first day, Fíli hadn’t felt like drinking with the rest, or eating either. He kept catching smell of a stench he could not escape from and had gotten sick because of it. The next day, after Kíli had finally broken his fever (an expressed thanks to Tauriel) Fíli had gotten sick again, he blamed it on nerves, he was high strung with almost losing his brother. His stomach turned with every small whiff of the fishy, outside air. He could smell the inadequate plumbing, the raw tang of sick sweat from Kíli, the stale lager from Bofur, everything made him swallow down his stomach. It turned out to be futile. Fíli made his way, repeatedly, over the edge of the landing to empty his stomach into the water below, not caring if someone walked into his retching.

That was yesterday, today though, was no different. Kíli, taking advantage of a giving Tauriel, and a missing Thorin, and stayed near the elf, his smiles came easy for her and he fought the itch to touch her milky skin. He knew the look well, only he would usually be the one receiving the look. Right now, though, all he was getting was more and more ill as the night drew on. Fíli kept one hand on his stomach, rubbing it as if to sooth it, and one playing with the beads of his moustache. He was miserable for several reasons, the main one being Kíli sitting across the room with the elf. It wasn’t that she was an elf, or even a she, but the fact that it had begun. Kíli had found someone else to play with. He knew it was coming; he had looked for a distraction from Kíli too, once upon a time, but his brother found his first, almost more illicit than their own coupling.

Kíli reached for Tauriel’s hand, her long fingers, gentle hands, pale skin, it reminded Fíli of Thranduil. Memories ran past his eyes, Thranduil’s pale skin peeking out of his robe (he never took it off in their coupling), his cold touch to his fiery skin, his demanding eyes alit with starlight, his silk soft lips gentling over his skin. It roiled in his stomach, that feeling of someone else claiming him rather than his brother. One of bard’s children, the boy, came running in, and dragged the stench of the icy air with him.

Fíli didn’t even make it out of his seat before retching onto the floor. He couldn’t hide his shame properly before he was done gagging. Instantly, Kíli _and_ Tauriel were by his side – Kíli pulling back his hair, his moustache a lost cause, and Tauriel rubbing his back as he was bent over. Fíli felt the burn of an elf’s ethereal touch, and rolled out from underneath it instinctively. He choked on his vomit as he tried to scream, to get away from the elf. He shook violently as he heaved one last time.

“Fee-“ his beloved brother called to him, dark, reflective pools of brown were glossed with the remains of his fever. He moved to collect his elder brother, still breathing heavily when they heard a terrible screaming, a roar, coming from the skies. Shutters banged open, shingles could be heard tearing off the roof, numerous items falling and crashing and flying around outside from the strong winds.

“ _He came down the mountains with winds like a hurricane._ ”

“DRAGON!” Fíli pushed past his numb lips. Sickness, hyperventilation, or fear numbed his lips, shaken his core, and a cold sweat (like the last few nights) entrenched his body. Unmindful of his sick, he reached out for his brother and pulled him across the room and out the door. Bofur, Oin, Tauriel and the children hot on their heels.

Fíli could already hear the screams of men, the cries of mothers and children, the smell of burning- he almost was sick again. Hand against a slick mouth, he pushed his way as best he could against the crowd of people, following them towards boats and the only dock to land nearby. Never letting go of his brother’s sleeve, he was forced to double over again, but he didn’t stop.

“FEE!” all of a sudden, they were in the water. Fíli swallowed down the fishy, dirty lake, choking on it underwater. His vision quickly went black, consciousness flirting with him when he felt the burn of air in his lungs finally.

Tauriel pulled his tunic, pulled him and Kíli onto the shore (how had they swum so far?) the children muttering and crying hysterically beside the elf.  Oin and Bofur stood nearby, consoling as much as strangers could. Fíli realized that they looked on to something, something on top of the mayor’s “manor”. His vision was too hazy to focus on the burning wreakage of the town.

_“One good fire, that’s all it’s going to take.” Gloin whispered somewhere behind him._

The terrible screaming, of which he’s never heard before, tore through the sky louder than any clap of thunder. Fíli feared for his brother, he hated storms, hated the sour mood he took when it rained, hated the sound of thunder, hated the flash of sky-fire, he wanted to pull his brother close to him, to protect him but his lungs decided to convulse themselves feeling left out of his stomachs’ action.

He coughed up the dirty, smelly water, dragged in lungful’s of air until they burned with cold.

Never before, had Fíli felt so pathetic, so wretched, so… weak.

Exhausted, finally feeling his brother’s hands in his, he allowed darkness to take him, his brother’s name on his breath, and Kíli’s lips on his brow.

“Fíli,” he could hear his mother’s voice, somewhere. Her gentle coaxing’s after a summer afternoon nap, her hands, larger than his own child ones, guided him to stroke soft downy cheeks of a newborn infant. “Fíli.”

The voice was there again, but it changed. It wasn’t his mother’s, close enough though with all the power it commanded. He felt a hand, thick and puffy (swollen?) tenderly slap his cheek, hoping to beat in his consciousness.

“For Aule’s sake, Thorin, stop beating the lad.” A female’s voice (Bilbo?) commanded… just as strongly as the first voice.

“Well you try it then, burglar!” the presence never left his side. He tried prying open his eyes, heavy and full of grit. They burned against the brightness of the sky, clouded as it was, burned against the snow falling on his face.

“Don’t take that tone with me.” He could imagine Bilbo’s hands fisted into her hips just as stubbornly as any female without reproach. “You’ll concuss him if you keep hitting him.”

“I’m made o’ sterner stuff than tha’.” Fíli grumbled out. He didn’t try to lift himself up, instead, he was perfectly fine with laying where he was for the rest of his life. Shame burned at his cheeks in memory of his body’s weakness and muscles cramped in his stomach.

Someone, Kíli, pulled him up into a hug. He could feel his brother’s breath puff into his braids at his temple, coughing out sighs of relief.

“We’d thought you’d walk passed the veil.” Kíli hugged tighter.

“What, and leave you?” Fíli found it in himself, despite the guilt burning in the back of his mind, to hug back, though not as tightly. “I belong by your side, brother.”

Fíli could feel his dimples deepening as his little brother clung tighter onto him, almost driving out his breath. He felt home with his brother. He felt as if everything could finally slow down around them, lazily float by as they were absorbed into each other. The heat, like sunshine, that came from his brother warmed him back up (had he been shivering before? His muscles were sore as if he had been shaking for hours). Kíli smelled of the lake, and of sun warmed rocks, but he swallowed around the smell and relaxed into the embrace.

Over the brunette’s shoulder, Fíli could see Oin leaning over Thorin’s ear. His uncle’s face, at first relaxed into some semblance of a smile, slowly clouded over with an unreadable expression. Oin kept his hand up, covering his lips, while he spoke into the king’s ear. Soon, Fíli could see wrath like dragon fire burning in his uncle’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving a little fast, I know, but it's with purpose... sort of. 
> 
> You can tell I don't have a beta, can't you.


	3. Here it Comes, the Fall of the Golden One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's drawing nearer, he can't stop it, he dosn't want to. He's always been taught to never waste words or actions, to always put meaning into it. But what meaning is there left, when he's been cast out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added angst as a tag, will be others in the future I'm sure. There's more tears afterwards so don't put the box of tissues down yet.

The looks from Thorin hadn’t gotten worse, but it hadn’t gotten better. Fíli feared that Kíli or someone else from the company would find out soon enough if his uncle kept weighing him down with his gaze. He could feel the sapphire weight on his person as he moved, as he stretched from bending over shuffling through gold. He could feel it particularly over his stomach, searching for a bump that wouldn’t show for some months now.

That didn’t mean that he wasn’t self-conscious. He could feel his muscles loosening and giving way to fat needed to insulate and protect his growing child. He sighed, unconsciously rubbing his stomach, and thought of all the food he had started to consume when not sicking it up around nightfall. His appetite increased, but not by much, and there wasn’t enough food or forage around to support him and his child as well as the rest of the company.

Fíli’s own gaze sought out a certain hobbit lass lately. Wondering if she knew, if she absolutely knew who had fathered his child, for he knew hers.

He had caught her in the morning, the opposite end as he, bent over her own bucket. He rubbed her back, just as she would visit him and rub his, and they supported each other without words, without questions. It was a relief, not to shame himself with the guilt. More often than not he wished that he hadn’t done what he had. But he was here, and it was his decision.

The company spent a lot of their days foraging through the pile of gold looking for the Arkenstone. Fíli fought constantly not to lose himself over the stench in the air. He hated how sensitive his smelling had gotten. Really though he expected it.

As a child growing up Fíli was told how some of the dwarrows were able to bear children. Fíli thought it was a ridiculous notion, he believed that the mothers, dwarrowdams, should be the only ones to bear.

_“And why is that Fíli?” his mother asked over a pot of peeled potatoes. She was salting them for flavor before placing the pot over the fire place. Fíli, all thirty-two years, fidgeted underneath his mother’s gaze. He didn’t really have a solid answer, not one that wouldn’t offend his mother, or any other dwarrowdam for that matter._

_So Fíli kicked his feet underneath the table and thought on it before answering. He had been taught at a younger age to never speak unless he wished for his words to have meaning. It didn’t do anybody any good if he used his words and not have any thought put behind them. Once he speaks, he’d been told, that is his word, and that is his bond. Never say anything he didn’t mean._

_“Well,”  
Fíli began, pushing around his salted pork and fried egg, “I thinks, it’s because dwarrowdams are made of different stones than dwarrows, and that dwarrowdams are made to bear and dwarrows are made to protect.”_

_“Cannot a mother and wife protect too?” Dís challenged. “There have been many times, Fíli, that I had to stand up for your father. Stand up for Frerin as well. Your uncle Thorin hadn’t always been the best for that, you know.”_

_“Yes!” Fíli agreed quickly, he really was treading on thin ice. “A mother and a wife can protect too! I agree! But where would a child finds comfort in soft arms? In a soft bosoms? Dwarrows can’t feed their children like Dwarrowdams, right? And Dwarrowdams look at things differently than dwarrows.”_

_“I can accept that. But dear, to say that we are that different…”_

_“Just that, what I means is,” Fíli paused looking to his food for help, “A village can’t have too many bakers, or blacksmiths, without having someone who knows how to hunts, or how to stitch, or how to lead. The world needs all sorts of people, all sorts of craft. There isn’t just one Valar, but many, because there isn’t just one type of flowers, or one mountain like the rest. You have to have a balance, and dwarrow and dwarrowdam are the balance for each other. At least for bearing. Just like father was your balance, and you were his. Doesn’t mean that you can’t fight, and it doesn’t mean that he isn’t a better cook (“Hey now, lad, I can cook!”), I know, but that’s the point. One persons can’t do all things, they just can’t.”_

_“So you think dwarrowdams should be the only ones to bear?” Dís smiled on one side of her face, Fíli knew she had won the argument. Dwarrowdams shouldn’t be the only one’s forced to bear._

_“No.” Fíli bowed his blond head, defeated._

_“Exactly. And that is why I am going to teach you about being pregnant. There’s no telling which of you boys will end up with a husband. Now, first things’ first…”_

The litany of information, taught at such a young age thankfully, had almost been too much for such a young lad. But the time that he had received those teachings were proving to be more of a use than burden. Fíli knew what to expect, he knew what to do if/when his feet began to swell, when his appetite changed more dramatically, or how to best to sooth his stomach from his ‘morning’ sickness.

“Really though, it’s never in the morning now is it.” Fíli rubbed his stomach tenderly. Soothing child or tummy he wasn’t sure, but he did it anyways, and it worked.

“Fee! Look what I found!” Kíli came bounding up to him with a chalice. It was large with emeralds bigger than their fingernails embedded around the rim, gold filigree and gold leaf covered the silver chalice in designs they hadn’t seen before.

They both smiled in wonder at the wealth of the one who commissioned this piece. Then they looked at the gold swarming around their feet and around the largest hall in the mountain… the wealth of Erebor was more than they could have ever fathomed.

“Who do you think it belonged to?” Fíli asked his brother. He partially wanted to know, but he really wanted to just hear his brother’s voice.

“Dunno.” Kíli shrugged his shoulders. “Want it? There’s a set that Tauriel and I have found already.”

“A set?” Fíli grabbed the chalice and lifted it up to find a maker’s mark.

“Yeah, it was in a small chest.” Kíli wiped his hands on his pants, and watched Fíli inspect the glorified water cup.

Fíli hmm’d and smiled at his beloved. He pocketed the chalice and brought out a ring that he had found. “It should fit her, I think, it’s as bright as starlight, thought she might like it.”

Fíli didn’t hate her, or the attention she got from his brother. He had time to accept his fate and craved for more of Kíli’s presence in its simplicity, unsure of how long he would have it. The smile he got from the other dwarf blinded him when he saw the gift. The elder’s heart clenched at the beauty of his brother, his smile, his eyes, the tussle of his hair, his swagger when he walked. Most didn’t agree that he had a dwarf’s beauty, because of his lack of beard. And that’s where they were wrong, most thought that Kíli couldn’t grow a beard (though partially true, he was pretty young, and he wasn’t at all patient coming into the worlds so certain things didn’t come to him the same time as others), he had to keep it trimmed or else it would get caught in his bow.

When Kíli had first started trimming it, other dwarrows and dwarrowdams began making fun of him, then began calling him all sorts of offending names. Elf and pretty, were of the more common stock. Fíli had never broken so many bones (his and others’) during one summer in his whole life. He looked down at his scars and smiled in the memory of them. He could recall when he got each one, each scar and each broken bone. Remembered that words he used to bite at the older dwarves who dared to make fun of Kíli.

And that was exactly how the rumors started, well, the rumors to the truth. Everyone knew they were royals (though with or without their mountain it didn’t matter, they still had to adhere to their ancestors laws), and everyone knew they shouldn’t be kissing in front of food stalls, holding hands at such an old age, shouldn’t be hugging for that long, shouldn’t be-

“Fee?” said dwarf looked up and found his sight was swimming. Confused, he wiped at his eyes and his hand came back wet. Mahal, he was crying, he hoped he would have been spared this at least.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, “sorry, erm, yeah, Tauriel will like this.”

He pushed the ring into his brother’s hands and wiped the tears off his cheeks. He knew Kíli would be pressing for answers and the call for dinner couldn’t be called out soon enough. Dwarves, an elf and a hobbit made their way down the mountain of gold (Kíli and Fíli racing down to the bottom in a slide of coins and cups) for their meal.

The next couple of days Fíli found himself dodging his uncle in front of the others; he pulled himself away from the company, and sought out Bilbo. They would wander the halls and explore rooms; they would sit next to the other and bask in the comfortable silence, away from the pressures of finding Thorin’s Arkenstone.

One day, Bilbo had been fed up with being yelled at by Thorin that she decided to go on a walk. Fíli volunteered to go with her but she refused even his company. Upset, he huffed and ran down a corridor to lose himself in the mountain.

Alone, again alone, the eldest heir wrapped himself in his cloak and watched the snowfall from where he stood on the terrace looking out over the ruins of Dale. He worried at his chapped lips as he pondered his next move. He was still getting sick, even after almost a month, and he was starting to feel the stretch of his stomach. Kíli fought with him, in the confines of one of their rooms, arguing that he should go and seek Oin for help, that Fíli was really sick with something. A cold he couldn’t shake maybe.

But Fíli knew what type of ailment he had, it was just a matter of convincing his brother that he didn’t. As soon as the lovable brunette would know, he would be open to Thorin’s interrogation, for the king had pestered Fíli over it as well. It was bad enough, according to his uncle, that Tauriel had found herself in league with the small band of dwarves and hobbit. Fíli wondered at that actually, why Thorin would allow Tauriel to follow them to Erebor. Or, even, why Thorin would allow the other blond elf, Legolas was it, to begin open talks of an alliance with the elven k-king.

Fíli hiccupped, wanting to be rid of the ghost of the elven king. But it was proving not to be as easy as that. Only a large dose of denial was enough to cover the fact that he was pregnant, never the less worry about who the father is, or even to concentrate on not focusing on Thranduil.

_Gasping against the sun peeking through the branches, red leaves falling around the bed he found himself in. Silken sheets bunched up in his grip as he felt lips trail lower and lower down his abdomen. He had already had three orgasms. As bound as his member was, he wasn’t able to release his seed, not unless the king untied him._

_Pale hands, like branches of ice, clasped around his hips, fingers lightly digging into flesh, not hard enough to bruise, not hard enough to mark. That type of play drove Fíli insane, he needed it to hurt a little, needed it to be a memory branded on his skin._

_But no, this wasn’t Kíli, this was Thranduil, the elf whose lips sealed itself around Fíli completely, pulling moans and half choked gasps from the smaller dwarf. He didn’t want a reminder and he didn’t want to see the marks from a man he didn’t and couldn’t love._

“Fee.” The blonde’s head jerked away from his gaze out on the fallen snow. The terrace, burned and charred underneath, had a light sprinkling of the snow, waiting to be blown away by the slightest wind. Kíli, _dear Kíli_ , stood at the threshold of the door leading to the lower levels from the guard’s terrace. Wrapped in new, old, stale dwarven clothes Kíli looked every bit a prince he would become. Every bit a _crowned_ prince would become.

Fíli had taken to isolating himself, keeping himself away from the others, away from his brother, to hide how often he gets sick. It wasn’t as constant throughout the day as he feared it would be (his mother exclaimed that was what happened to her when she was pregnant with Fíli. Sick everyday throughout her pregnancy, swollen feet, heart burning, head swimming as if she stood on the highest peak in Ered Luin, now go pay your mama back and get me some rabbits! She would say with a smile) but it was often enough it would raise many eyebrows. And the longer he can hide it the better. The longer he could stay by his brother’s side, still cuddling in the night.

“Dinner’s ready. I think Bombur cooked the deer I got earlier.” Kíli was as proud as any child with an accomplishment. He smiled, hoping to draw his older brother into it as well. Fíli tried, for his sake, at smiling back.

“Sounds good.” He replied automatically. He walked in from where he stood, under an archway and the few meters to where his beloved stood atop the stairs. His head was ducked, looking down at his own new boots (his others completely ruined by his dive into the lake a few weeks before) and dwelled on the terrible secrets he kept from his brother.

“What’s wrong?” Kíli asked, demanded, his hand came up to Fíli’s face, cradling a cheek against his palm. Kíli closed the distance wrapping his scrawny (for a dwarf that is, though nothing compared to the embrace of elves) arms around his shorter brother and pulling him against his chest. Fíli could almost imagine the face his brother was making. Eyebrows drawn together, eyes wet, bottom lip- chewed red from worrying it – quivering. “Something is wrong. And you won’t tell me. Why won’t you tell me?”

He begged, he pleaded, but there was nothing that Kíli would do that Fíli would succumb to. He tried one last time, “Please!”

“Kee.” Fíli pulled away, heart swelling with pride despite the situation. Kili would make an excellent king. He was compassionate, dependable, he wasn’t arrogant, he trained harder than most to be the best, and it showed! There wasn’t anything that he couldn’t tackle, except this. “Everything is fine. I’m feeling a little low is all.”

“No! That isn’t all!” he clung to his older brother just the same as when Fíli tried leaving the brunette behind in Ered Luin, crying, face in his elder’s chest, tugging at the lapels of his tunic. “There’s something wrong and you won’t tell me! Why? Is it Tauriel? Is it because I’m with her?”

“NO! No, don’t ever think that this is your fault.” He had to patch it before it broke, his heart he means. “Kee, there is nothing that you’ve done wrong. This is my burden to bear. I won’t allow you to take blame for this.”

Kíli, _his Kíli,_ lifted his head and sniffled again, never bothering to wipe at his eyes. It was a tactical ploy that Kíli realized, so many decades ago, that usually got his way. Tears running down his face, cheeks red with frustration, Fíli still found his heart falling for it. His brother’s beautiful brown eyes glossed in tears.

“So,” _sniff,_ “It is about Tauriel. It’s about us.”

Fíli didn’t answer, not in any way, he was afraid that once he spoke, he wouldn’t be able to stop. He allowed his little brother to take whatever he wanted out of his silence. Fíli stroked his cheek, as one would console his infant brother, and smiled.

“I love you, little brother. You have grown so much on this journey alone.” He leaned down to kiss him, full on the lips for the last time. _It has to be the last_. He wanted to deepen it when he felt Kíli’s tongue swipe at his lips, asking for permission, trying to take the lead on instinct. Fíli pulled back before he caved in. “I’ll always be there for you, whenever you ask. Remember that.”

“Okay.” They closed their eyes before bumping foreheads, hands still dug in shirt, in hair, wrapped around a lithe neck. They breathed each other’s breath, as if they could taste the other’s soul. They remained there, again, the world slowing around them until they were all that mattered. Time would pull them apart, but love kept them together, Fíli was sure of it. If they couldn’t physically be together, standing by Kíli’s side, then he would be there in spirit, in the memories like this.

Just existing.

\--

Dinner had been terrible. Though the food was great, the meat with gravy and small potatoes were delicious, despite the lack of seasoning. The smell of dragon though, that ruined Fíli’s dinner, the smells, the expected sickness he would feel this time of night, it was starting to drive Fíli insane.

Kíli kept up a kind of chatter around the table, easily cajoled and joined by Bofur, Nori, a grumbling Gloin, and a snickering Tauriel. She, surprisingly, enjoyed the company of dwarves, not the first creature besides Mahal’s children themselves to do so. But Bilbo didn’t look like she was enjoying dinner either.

She sat besides Balin, near enough to an excited Ori (he found the library, she should be more excited) but Bilbo wasn’t eating, or paying attention to the young dwarf. Her attention, Fíli now realized, kept flitting over to Thorin. Worry blazed bright in her eyes, his uncle’s looks had been darkening as of late. There were whispers as to why.

Gold-sickness.

Bilbo edged in her seat, seemingly ready to get up when Thorin slammed his hand on the table startling everyone. Kíli stiffened next to his brother, Tauriel sat statue still.

“Where are you going, burgler?!” Thorin was in an absolute rage. Fíli had never remembered seeing Throin like this. Had he not known, though, of a dwarfs rage, Fíli would be more worried. Oh he was frightened by the sudden rage but he wasn’t as worried about the venom behind it. Thorin’s anger would usually blow over and the company would witness the king crawling at the halfling’s feet in forgiveness. Fíli knew he loved her, everyone did. They smiled fondly at their attention to each other, but not tonight. This was definitely not like any other match the two had.

“I’m not going anywhere that I shouldn’t. Thank you, very much.” Bilbo said tersely, hesitatingly. Her face had paled and her countenance shrank but she spoke without reserve.

“That’s no answer.” Thorin didn’t look at her; fever was setting in his eyes.

“Then I’m going for a walk.” Bilbo insisted. “I didn’t think I needed permission to leave _your_ table.”

Fíli’s mind was rolling with explanations and possibilities as to why she would be so hostile with his uncle, it couldn’t be, though (there’s no way, not now, please). Kíli’s hand gripped Fíli’s thigh underneath the table, the blond didn’t acknowledge it.

“You don’t need permission, burgler, but I should warn you against lying to me.” Thorin made it no attempt to hide his raw and powerful gaze onto Fíli. Kíli’s hand instantly retracted from where it rested hotly against the elder’s leg as ice settled in Fíli’s gut. “I need to know _everything_ that goes on in my kingdom.”

“Thorin,” Balin tried to intercede.

“AM I NOT YOUR KING!?” Thorin had completely lost it! He stood, toppling over the oak heavy chair, heads bowed around the table. “Do I not deserve what my father’s father had?”

There was only one real explanation. Thorin was getting tired of waiting for the others to find the Arkenstone.

“Of course, You Majesty.” Balin retracked, “We will find it.”

“Oh I think someone knows exactly where it’s at.” Thorin quietened. As loud as a grave in the dining hall Fíli could suspect he could hear the sweat rolling off of Bilbo’s body.

“I- I don’t…”

“YOU DON’T WHAT! Bilbo Baggins you have been nothing but a burden and blight on our company, and I should be rid of you now if it weren’t that you knew the secret’s to the Arkenstone.”

“Uncle,” Fíli saw his chance and he took it, “What are you saying? You can’t possibly believe that our hobbit-“

“OUR!?” Thorin rounded on his heir, his eldest sister-son. “Do not think that you are excluded from my wrath and rage, Fili. I’ll deal with your crown thieving in a moment.”

“Now hold on!” Fíli believed that he surprised even Thorin, Kíli did. He stood proud and ready to battle his brother’s innocence. _Oh Kíli, sweet, loving, dependable Kíli._ “What is with you, uncle! We are trying to find the stone. And Fíli isn’t doing any sort of mongering-“

“ISN’T HE?” Thorin made a move to pace around the table, directly at Fíli and Kíli. The ice grew, settled into all of Fíli’s limbs, only his duty to crown and brother made him stand in front of Kíli. Thorin though, surprised everyone when he grabbed harshly onto Bilbo’s blue coat, trimmed to fit her better than it had before, and dragged her kicking and spitting like a cat behind him. Had Dwalin not dutifully followed his liege, Bilbo would have fallen to the ground when Thorin pushed her away. “You! Are the worst blight. A disgrace in the family, a disgrace to the line of Durin! How could we not see it? How have you hidden it so well?”

“I don’t-“ Kíli stammered, Tauriel stood behind him, ready to help him where she could.

“It’s not his fault! Don’t blame hi-“ The slap hurt, Thorin’s rings cutting into his cheek, he could feel the blood dripping down his face already. It hurt so bad, his head snapped around, the force of Thorin’s blow knocking him to the table. Fíli’s arms, instead of breaking his fall into the green marble table, went to cover his stomach instinctively.

“I wasn’t talking to Kíli.” Thorin was quiet again, voice sounding like gravel from his yelling.

Fíli let out a pitiful moan at finally being caught. He whimpered, fearing for his brother. “I- Thorin, I-“

He couldn’t find words, couldn’t keep up this façade.

“Did you not spread your legs for him?” _the feeling of a heavy body above, hips thrusting to shove deeply inside him._ “Did you not force him to plant his seed in you?” _a low moaning, the next morning, when Kíli’s headache felt like a hammer between his eyes. Fíli felt bad, for tricking him._ “Or could you simply not keep you trousers up? Couldn’t help but bend over like a cheap whore for your brother?” _ice slithered in his veins at his act, why is he doing this, why is he allowing this to happen? But it felt too good, that cock sliding in and out of him, driving him to newer heights than he’s ever reached alone._

“Fíli-“ Kíli barely breathed the name.  “What is he?”

“He’s pregnant, you fool.” Thorin straightened to his full height, towering over the crumpled Fíli. “He’s carrying your child.”

“No, we never-“

“Down by the creek. I saw you two, disrobed as he debauched you. _Contaminated_ you, Kíli.” The words hurt, more than when Fíli had fallen into a bee’s nest in the middle of the woods, and sent running from the defensive insects. It hurt more than when he had been bucked off his first pony, a broken arm and broken ribs his birthday gift instead. But he had to know the blame was coming.

“We would never! Thorin!” Fíli heard the desperation in his little brother’s voice. “We knew better. We never-“

“Were you not drugged then? Can you not remember what happened?” Thorin pressed, the whole company listening in rapt attention as a jury would at a trial. Fíli’s guts boiled, on the brink of spilling over. Guilt burned hotter than any other emotion swirling inside him. How could he have hurt his brother, why had he given him the wine? He knew why, and the answer made him sick up, finally. “You see? Tell me you haven’t noticed his morning sickness. Tell me you haven’t seen him withdraw in guilt at your touch, Kíli.”

“Th-or-“ Fíli gagged again, not able to hold anything down. “P-please, Tho-rin.”

 “Do not call me by my name.” here it came, “You have no right, dwarf, to call me by the name of my fathers.”

Gasps were heard, but Fíli tuned them out, his mind reeled in all the memories he had with his brother, selfishly reliving them before the gavel was brought down on his sentencing. He heard the _snick_ of a knife being unsheathed (his own knife of sacrifice, for when, if, he was ever taken by an enemy. The crest of his father’s fathers branded in the hilt with iron) he felt tugs on the braids at his temples.

”NO~!” His heart stuttered when he heard Kíli cry out.

He could feel, he could hear, his braids being cut in half (the mark of one of disgrace), his moustache had been yanked, harshly, against one of Fíli’s sharpest blades. If he wasn’t still enough, Thorin might cut into him.

His upper lip felt cold, he couldn’t feel the dangling of heavy silver beads at his lip. He didn’t hear the tinkling of the beads in his hair as he shook. He knew this was coming, he knew, but knowing didn’t make it any easier.

“Be gone from here, you are banished forthwith and hereafter for the rest of your life. Should your child live, they will never be recognized by the crown. Your sons, your son’s sons, for five generations none shall speak your name. And ours may never touch your lips.” Thorin’s voice was heavy with anger, he could barely hear him over Kíli’s yelling, he must be held down by someone because he could hear thrashing on the floor.

Fíli couldn’t feel anything, except the heavy swimming in his head, the tightness in his stomach (he knew that feeling like an old friend), his limbs heavy he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. He was being hauled up though, his perspective of the floor shifted until he was turned around and led down the side of the table. He barely caught his footing in his numbness before Thorin spoke again.

“Wait!” Fíli didn’t hope. He couldn’t dare, his braids had already been cut, the deed was done. “Take this wretch with you. And before I forget.”

Fíli felt his hair being pulled again. He wondered what Thorin was doing back there, when it hit him.

_Silver, shinning off the sun and gleaming brighter than anything he had ever seen, was his gift._

_“It’s yours.” A voice told him._

_Fíli sat in someone’s lap, he couldn’t remember the face, or voice, but he knew it was his father’s._

_“Mine?”_

_“Yes, Fíli.” His father held the gift in his hands a bit longer, letting the sun catch on the grooves, on the silver. It almost blinded Fíli but he couldn’t stop looking. It was engraved with the symbol of his mother’s fathers, and a set of symbols he didn’t recognize yet._

_“What’s that, father?” Fíli pointed to the runes._

_“That means that you’re a brother. That means you have to protect him for the rest of his life, no matter what. You must stand against any enemy that comes his way. And love him forever.”_

_Fíli giggled at that, his father took the gift and pulled back his hair, Fíli bounced in his father’s lap. “Don’t worry, father. Kíli is mine, and I am his. We can’t be separated.”_

_He felt around the back of his head at the clasp that barely held into his small amount of hair._

When the clasp had been pulled out his legs gave in, he lost all the strength he tried to reserve for this moment. His head rolled back and he began screaming, calling for his gift back, calling for Kíli back, calling for time to be given back to him so that he couldn’t have ended up like this.

But there it was. He was dragged screaming through his mother’s father’s halls, the halls of his ancestors, the gold that hardened in the receiving hall made no give to his plight. He cried, he wailed, and tried to stand to run to his brother, but the hands around him were iron. Or he was too weak. He felt his voice crack, but he screamed all the more louder.

He can’t take that away, he _couldn’t_ take that away. How could he? How could-

He was deposited on the steps of his- no, on the steps of the Lonely Mountain. In a boneless, crying heap, he curled in on himself and wailed at the two statues of the ancestors of the king of Erebor who sat guard of the mountain.

He cried, he couldn’t cry anymore and he cried again. He felt his voice go raw with pain, his heart giving a terrible lurch. It felt like he was dying. He coughed and tasted blood. His throat had ripped, but he cried some more.

Never again.

_Brown eyes in the meadow, smiling down on him through curtains of white flowers._

He couldn’t speak their names.

_A soft hug from his mother, a child’s hands reaching up to him as he cried, the child would never know their father had once been there._

He could never return.

_His uncle circling arms around them both, Fíli almost too old to sit comfortably in his lap, as he told that story again of Erebor. Of their inheritance._

He would never see his brother again.

_His smile, his kisses, his touch heated and casual, his hugs of fright and love, his shivering of fear and pleasure, drinking until they were blind._

Every single precious memory, he had to learn to give up, because of his inability to say no, his inability to stop himself.

They were all gone, with braids and clasps; they were ripped away from him.

And he wept.


	4. The Night Will Bury You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had been kind and gentle to her. He protected her, fought with her, tried to push her away only to come crawling back. But this time, Bilbo didn't think he would be doing any of that. Being banished, as she was about to find out, will bring the darkest days upon her.
> 
> At one point, or more, in the past, he had made her smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Mentions of abuse and possible rape. It won't be brought up again though not even in conversation. I don't appreciate rape, abuse, or even domestic violence (which Bilbo will agree with me on that).

“Oh I think someone knows exactly where it's at.”

“I-I don't...”

“YOU DON'T WHAT! Bilbo Baggins you have been nothing but a burden and a blight on our company, and I should be rid of you now if it weren't that you knew the secret's to the Arkenstone.”

“Uncle, what are you saying?” Poor Fíli, he had been looking more and more terrible throughout the night. The boy was pale now, sweating with restraint against his own sickness that she feared he couldn't combat his uncles own. But she knew, as soon as Fíli's shaking but reassuring voice had risen above Thorin's, that if there was anyone at this table that could talk her lover down now, it would be Fíli. “You can't possibly believe that our hobbit-”

“OUR!? Do not think that you are excluded from my wrath and rage, Fíli. I'll deal with your crown thieving in a moment.”

Bilbo feared for the blond dwarf. She watched helplessly, silent like the rest, as Thorin directed his attention to his eldest nephew. It felt as if it were her fault, for allowing Thorin to be distracted by Fíli’s interruption, she felt as if she should have done something more. But she was only a hobbit, apparently only nothing more than a burglar for hire rather than a lover Thorin made her believe she was. 

It was the night that he arrived in her little smial. The banging of the door during the ruckus of laughter and song, that drew her attention, she couldn’t have possibly prepared herself for what, or who, stood at the other side of the door. 

When he ducked his head, to better see Gandalf who had answered her door, she saw his grace, his strength and his power immediately. She didn’t know who this dwarf was or why he specifically was at her door (much less why either of these confounded dwarves were in her house). Her breath yielded in her chest, her heart caught in her throat, he was lovely. 

He was hairy in all the places a hobbit wasn’t, thick in area’s a hobbit never had been, she couldn’t dare to deign what was underneath all his layers of clothing. But she wanted to discover it, peel him back like a morning glory in the first sun rays of the day. 

My goodness what was wrong with her! Imagining such forbidden fantasies for such a proper hobbit but oh, did he make her quiver. 

And it was embarrassingly easy allowing him in her bed. 

He cupped gently at her breasts, pulled her nipples into his mouth and suckled like a fauntling would it’s mother. He was gentle but assertive, never hesitating except to ask for her comfort. Her soft folds from a complacent lifestyle were carefully discovered by Thorin’s wandering hands which were tantalizingly rough. The scrape of his beard was foreign to her, it tickled her skin where he was kissing, his chest hair painted over her body like a brush upon canvas when he moved over her. His fingers dug gently into her, coaxing the finest whimpers of pleasure. 

Her legs shook violently when he used his thumb the same time he flexed his fingers inside her. She lost herself to her pleasure many times before he had even seated himself gently in her. He was thick, Yavanna he was, his cock head and piercings had popped into her so sweetly making her jump when it had. Her nipples tightened, tingled with pleasure when she felt his manhood sink deeper into her. Legs wrapped around him possessively, she pulled him deeper in her still, he groaning above her with his head thrown back in pleasure. His hands gripped her supple hips pulling when he pushed. When she could feel his balls on the cleft of her bottom she was driven with an uncharacteristic hobbit trait. 

She pushed herself up, seating him deeper in herself on his lap and she pulled on his braids down for a kiss. He rutted into her, sitting on the bed that way, her hands in his hair, his hands roaming the swells of her body. 

But that was so long ago. He had taken her to bed many times after that (she really had lost count). They fought, he yelled at her louder than she ever could, she succumbed to feelings of uselessness before he would come crawling back, apologizing, begging for her to forgive him. 

“You are so silent though. Many dwarrowdams would have clobbered him for his tongue.” Bofur had confessed to her the decidedly un-hobbity traits of dwarves. She was appalled when the miner had asked why she hadn’t struck the dwarrow yet. 

“You lot are all so violent! I couldn’t imagine striking anybody in anger like that!” she retorted.

“Well, ye’ havn’ seen how thick headed we are then. We need a little beatin’ sometimes.” Bofur chuckled.

“That’s wrong.” Bilbo said resolutely. “I would never raise a fist to my lover, or any one I loved. Never!”

She huffed and marched away in her little brown dress and red overcoat. Her apron had been stained with dirt and travel already that she knew it was a lost cause. 

“No, nonononono, ye’ misunderstood!” Bofur caught up to her, they had pulled up in front of the soup pot Bombur was currently working on. “We don’ condone beatin’s either! But that’s what I meant when I said a dwarrowdam would have his beard! (in a lower voice) Thorin’s a right git, we all know tha’, lass. We can tell he’s frustrated about somethin’ and he’s tryin’ tah push ye away. But he feels bad about it and goes back to ye’! See!”

Bilbo shook her head, she most certainly didn’t see. Thorin push her away? Why? Whenever they lay together he confesses heart and soul to her. But her own heart couldn’t take any more if it was going to be a up and down like this again. She needed to tell Thorin to either stop being so hot and cold or to leave her alone for good.

“I don’t get it, Bofur. I really don’t. Hobbits are different, we fight, yes, we apologize and make-up, sure, but not to this extent. I can’t take this kind of abuse. He can’t treat me like this. I won’t allow it!” She began to find her anger. “I don’t care if he loves me, I don’t care if I’m his ‘One’, I don’t deserve this kind of treatment. No one should!”

“Is tha’ what he said?” Bofur shoulders sank and his head poked up like a ground owl his eyes just as wide as one. “Tha’ yer his One?”

“Yes.” The curly-haired hobbit puffed in annoyance. “But that won’t make a lick of difference if he keeps treating me like this.”

“Then let him know as much. Sit him down, don’t let him talk, make him listen. Then, walk away and let him decide what he’s going to do. Give him time, don’t listen to any o’ his pleadin’s and let him stew in it for a few days. Then we’ll see where yer at.”

Bofur’s logic made sense. She had planned on doing just that. But everything after Rivendell had spiraled so out of control that even Fíli and Kíli couldn’t find time enough to be away for long (except they had escaped to the creek that one night. Kíli somehow drunk and Fíli looking a little off but both glowing with the light of post-coital bliss). 

Skin changers, spiders, elves, lake-town, dragons and now this.

She sat at the the bottom of a particular gold pile digging as silently as she could through a chest to find her prize. It sat among other chests, this one, and was half buried by cups and armor and gems before she uncovered it and hid the bane of Durin. The stone shined in the dark tendrils of light streaming toward her, attempting to corrupt her. Voices inside her own head keeping this one at bay. She shook her curly head and looked around, she thought she heard footsteps.

Beyond the pile of coins she saw a figure, hunched over as if in pain, stumbling into a room, a gold head and silver clasp ducking into the darkened chamber. She lowered her head in the near miss, Fíli was only finding solitude to succumb to his morning sickness. Bilbo smiled in relief, her friend wouldn't rat her out, but she didn't want questions to be asked when she didn't want to give answers. 

She stood up, her feet almost asleep, and made her way towards the great door, the main entrance to the mountain. Outside, she caught her breath as she watched an icy cloud puffing from her mouth as she exhaled. It rose up, like her smoke rings she was fond of making, into the moonlit night. The sky was a distant, thick, cold layer of blue velvet with the stars twinkling like diamonds amongst them. Thanks to Thorin, she knew what diamonds on crushed, Durin blue velvet looked like. She smiled at the last good thing that the two lovers shared with the other. He offered her the first of the spoils. Diamonds, smaller than the fingernail of her pinky, dainty looking but ensured to be the most perfectly cut diamonds in the hoard, to emeralds, beryls, and moonstones and many other gems and jewels she couldn't remember to name, spread out on the crushed blue velvet. A lightweight chain mail shirt was laid out for her. 

“ _Just your size, my love.” He spoke distantly, wanting to rub at his temple to keep his headache at bay. He told her that the grip was tightening, the gold-sickness, and he wanted to have as many happy memories to help fight it back. “It's made of-”_

“ _I don't care for any of this, Thorin.” She turned from the pile bestowed unto her and reached up to cup his cheek, but he pulled back to carefully wrap her hands in his. “I only want you, my love. My One.”_  
  
“I wish for that as well.” 

“ _Then let's go. Back to the Shire, back to my hobbit hole where you can trod mud all over the carpet and listen to me bicker about it again.” She curled into his chest, he enveloping her in his free arm, his cheek against her curly head he smelled her perfume, the lavender oils she found for her bath._

“ _I would like that. But I have to make sure Erebor is secured for my nephew, for our family, for our people.” Thorin sighed greatly, she could imagine herself laying on the side of Erebor and could feel it rise and fall, just as he did, it would be the same. “I have a duty, as a king.”_

“ _Do you not have a duty to me?” Bilbo didn't like sounding so jealous and petulant, but there it was. She, since the first day of her travels with her dwarf, had always felt second place in the light of day. But when they were alone, intimate and anchored to the other, she felt like the whole world (Thorin) revolved around her, that it circled around her, spun like a lazy top, until everything was out of focus except him. Her center and her world. In his dark clothes and loose hair in the breeze, the meadow that she was, protected by the thick forest that he was. And everything beyond that, meant nothing in the face of their love._

_But she would eventually be brought back to reality, with his devotion to crown and gold._

“ _You, my love,” he kissed the top of her head, “my One,” lifted her chin with his hand, “my Everything,” kissed her on her soft lips, “will always come first. Please don't forget that. I do this all,” he kissed her button nose, “so that we may be together, selfishly and forever.”_

“ _Yes.” And she believed him. Something had shifted in him when the dragon Smaug had finally fallen, when she had been found, laying in the golden hall, almost covered in the molten metal she had fallen so close to, unconscious and unprotected. Thorin had fiercely focused in on her after that, she could see it in his eyes, in how he handled her, in how he held her. But she feared, sometimes, it was because he was drawn to the Arkenstone in her pocket._

The same stone that was sitting heavily in her coat. 

She cursed the stone and cursed it's discovery. If only the miner hadn't found it, if only he had sold it (like the black-market miners Bofur told her existed, pocketing gems, jewels, and ore for their own sale), for the king Thrór to never have been entranced by it, for her love to never have desired it's return.

Bilbo couldn't help any of that, but she could help this. She pulled her tightening coat around her, stroking her midsection as it swelled gently under her clothes, and took the first step towards old-Dale. 

It didn't take long, thankfully, to get to the (she supposed) main entrance to Dale and to find the Man she had requested meet her. She was nearly twenty paces from the hooded figure hiding in the shadow against the full moon, when she heard some bit of rubble clobbering to the ground somewhere to her right. She looked up and around to see what else might want to fall on her head. 

“Halfling.” The Man's rough voice spoke. It was more ragged than she remembered, but then again, dealing with all the smoke of his burning home would make his voice like gravel. “You said you had something for me.”

She looked around again, hoping that she wasn't followed, but knew that every dwarf and elf were sleeping away back at the mountain.

“Yes.” she felt the stone getting heavier in her coat.

–

“Now hold on!” Kíli, ever one to stand up for his brother, spoke up, “What is with you, uncle! We are trying to find the stone. And Fíli isn't doing any sort of mongering-”

Bilbo attempted to raise a shaking hand to her lover's shoulders to distract him from his nephews, the king practically vibrated with such raw emotion she was afraid she would burn at the touch.

“Isn't he?” Suddenly, Thorin reached ink stained fingers toward her person so quickly that Bilbo reacted without thought to the threat. She began thrashing about and attempting to claw at his arm, her heart sped up so quickly she was out of breath in no time. If she could growl, she was sure she would have. Thorin pulled on her coat to drag her around the head of the table where he sat, she heard the scrape of heavy chairs behind her. ' _If that's Dwalin'_ she thought in panic, _'that won't be good.'_

Dwalin had only ever followed his king when he needed protection... or when going into battle. She hoped it wasn't either, that, somehow, the guard would intercede. Her hopes were dashed away when she tried pulling away again from Thorin just as he released her which made her fall into Dwalin behind her. He wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her against him to restrain.  
  
"I don't-" Bilbo saw Tauriel stand behind the stuttering Kíli, confusion in her countenance as well.  
  
"It's not his fault. Don't blame hi-" To her greatest surprise, Thorin lifted his heavy hand and struck Fili hard enough to knock him off his feet. She screamed in shock and tried to go to the lad, but the meaty arms held her tight.  
  
"You knew." Dwalin whispered hotly against her pointed ear. "You knew the lad was pregnant the whole time?"  
  
"Yes! Please! Dwalin!" She struggled against her bonds, she completely missed some of what was being said around her.  
  
"It's illegal." His voice thick. "Royals, the boys, can't have children together."  
  
"No." Bilbo was beginning to understand Thorin's recent anger. "What have I done?  
  
She sagged in Dwalin's arms allowing herself to be held up by the large dwarf. His arms so unlike Thorin's, in size and strength. Thorin had always held her with a care and gentleness that flattered her. She enjoyed being treasured by the dwarf when she had negative experiences in the past with males. He would hold her from behind, kiss her soft curls, and she would feel how his chest would rumble against her back when he would tell her how beautiful she was, how he would always protect her, or how the grass was really green. He would say anything to get her to laugh.  
  
But Dwalin's arms were too big, too hard, and too restricting. Where Thorin would hold her to protect her, to comfort her, Dwalin was trying to keep her from helping out her friend.  
  
"He's pregnant you fool. He's carrying your child."  
  
"No. Please, Thorin." She begged, but he couldn't hear her. "Please stop."  
  
"Down by the creek."  
  
"No."  
  
"We would never! Thorin!"  
  
"Stop. I'm sorry."  
  
"Were you not drugged then?"  
  
"You don't understand."  
  
"Th-or-" Fíli getting sick. "P-please, Thorin."  
  
"Do not call me by that name."  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
"Promise me, lass." Dwalin choked on his tears. "Promise he won't be alone. Promise you won't abandon him. Promise me, please."  
  
"I promise." She struggled still, she couldn't not fight. She saw Balin and Nori pull Fíli up from the floor, her and Dwalin following but Thorin stopped abruptly and turned to them.  
  
"You, halfling, are banished too. You have betrayed my trust and my love. Have I not given you everything I could?" Thorin reached his hand up to Bilbo's face. She though he would strike her too, so she flinched away. "I gave you my heart and you gave it away with the stone."  
  
His knuckles, stained with Fili's blood, stroked her soft cheeks. She felt the burn of it on her skin and it left a lasting feeling, like a foot waking up, as he withdrew his hand.  
  
"Wait." Thorin turned and walked past the crying Kíli who was being forcefully held by Tauriel. What had she missed? "Take this wretch with you. And before I forget..."  
  
Wretch, he had called her a wretch. He knew that she didn't like being called that, that she had lived a life before where dealing with these rambunctious dwarfs were nothing with their violence. That the yelling matches her and Thorin found themselves in really were nothing but child's play from what she had experienced in her youth. Only he would have known, out of anyone alive today, that calling her that word has usually brought out the worst in her.  
  
But hearing it from the only person that she dared to love willingly, the only person that she thought she could trust, hurt more than what her great aunt's husband had done to her.  
  
She had been dragged, by Dwalin, through the halls behind a crying and flailing Fíli. She watched as Nori and Balin had struggled getting him down to the great doors of Erebor. She heard Fíli choking on his screams, she couldn't imagine the pain he was in right now.  
  
But she knew how he felt.  
  
She was the one who told Thorin about Fíli's condition. She was the one who had been trusted by the lad, he had asked her if she could not tell, well, Kili mainly, but she still felt responsible. She was also the one who had witnessed Fíli's rape by Thranduil and told Thorin of the possibilities of the origin's of the father.  
  
She was the one who failed the boy, and she felt... wretched.  
  
"Did you really do it, lass?" Balin had interrupted her self blame, "Did you really get rid of the stone?"  
  
"Yes," Bilbo held her head as high as she could, which wasn't very high. Tears felt like trails of ice against her cheeks, Dwalin's arms the only protection against the frigid wind. "I did."  
  
Balin made a move with his head that was the universal signal for one's release. Dwalin let go and Balin grabbed her by the upper arm and pushed her towards Fili, who was currently curled up in a ball crying and choking on tears and dinner. Bilbo stumbled but kept her footing.  
  
Nori stayed nearby but was given a bark of orders by Dwalin and the red-head pulled himself regretfully away from Fíli. Bilbo shook with the chill in the air, her thick coat not enough protection against the environment.

“Yeh both are going to be given your packs back.” Balin spoke toward the mountain but directed his steeled voice at her. “Whatever was in them will remain, a few days worth of food and supplies are required by our laws to be given to you.” 

He turned to her finally, curled beard flapping in the sudden gust of howling wind. It sounded like Erebor itself was crying at their crimes, whatever silly crimes they were. “I hope to never see you here again, halfling.”

With that, Tho- the king's men left the two crying, pregnant creatures to wait for their packs. 

Bilbo held Fíli as best as she could, he stopped moving, but kept crying, his legs tucked up against his chest, he looked so small and frail, like a child who had lost his trust in his father. Tears froze on her cheeks. Fingers cramped. Their bodies wracked with shivers in the winter winds. It hadn't taken long, though it felt like forever, before Nori came back out with their packs. Bilbo's own still stuffed with her bedroll, and...

“Tell him,” Nori spoke softly, as if he could be heard from the king in the mountain, “that just because he can't say their names... that he can't say ours. I paid attention to every word. And you both will be welcome in Ered Luin should ye want to visit.”

The packs, food, tinderboxes, pots, and extra blankets and coats were deposited beside Bilbo. Shaking next to a quietened Fíli, she reached around for a stone, a couple of stones, and threw them back towards Nori. She was a good throw, and he knew it. So when they skipped passed him and trickled to a stop at his feet or bounced off the great doors, he kept walking, ignoring her screaming and Fíli's choking. 

–

“Fíli,” Bilbo shook the hiccuping lad, “Fíli, dear. We have to move to shelter. It's begun to snow again.”

She wasn't sure if the blond would ever move, or if he had even heard her, until he coughed one last time, blood and saliva spattering against the ground lightly. The hobbit sighed in relief and leaned back to give him room as he tried to get up.

He shivered, it was so cold, and looked around to where they were and seemed to steel himself as best as he could. 

“Da-” _cough_ “Dale is closest. And better than the cliffs.” 

He spoke with a emptiness that she didn't like. It was as if he were a dead man walking to the gallows (she would know what one sounds like), vacant, hollow, fragile and broken. 

“Yes, of course.” Bilibo agreed, gathering their packs. She noticed that a few of his swords and knives had been hastily shoved into his pack, as if Kíli or Nori had done it before passing them off. She smiled at their concern for Fíli's want of many blades. “We should move now.”

The trudge through snow and loose rocks weren't as tough as she would have thought. Fíli was distraught, of course he would be, but he had shouldered his pack resolutely, stiffly, helped her with hers, and began walking down the way and to the crumbling Dale. 

They had been able to find an alcove, what was once a home she was sure, if the kitchen pots and ladles she had to kick away were anything to go by. They pulled out their bedrolls, put on the extra coats and sat down and held another. It appeared that Fíli wasn't done crying, and she wasn't sure if he ever would be, with the loss of family, trust, and crown. Though she assumed that he had never really cared about the latter as much as her lov-, as much as Thorin did. 

She felt her his arms tightening around her body as she realized she had begun crying too. 

“It's going to be alright. Fíli.” She said between sobs, “I'll always be there for you, I won't let you be alone. Not now.”

She felt him moving, as if he were crying again, but she heard the gentle breath of laughing instead. Confused she picked her head up from his chest, where it had been resting, and looked into his hollow, red-rimmed eyes. 

He shifted in their embrace and she could smell a distinct and strong perfume on the lad. She inhaled again and knew instantly what it was. Heather. It wasn't light at all, like the cluster of flowers would be, but it was heavy, with sandalwood and some sort of other smell she hadn't known at all. But it was thick, and cloying, much like when she spilled her father's peppermint oil on the carpet and they could smell it for days around the smial. 

“I was just about to promise you the same.”

–

Without anywhere to really go, and no reason to find shelter and home along the way, they found themselves again in front of a round green door. 

_Gandalf had found them, some days later, edging the boarders of Mirkwood's road. He had just tumbled out of the foliage himself when he had looked in the most utter confusion at two of the faces he had come to know these past few months. And to say that the wizard had been in the most wrathful state they had ever seen him in had been an understatement._

_He cursed Thorin's thick head, cursed the mountain and cursed Durin's bane. To which he apologized to Fíli then cursed again when he had learned about the nature of their at the edge of the forest._

“ _That... fool. How dare he- Well I should just- how could he do this-.”_

“ _Please!” Both hobbit and dwarf spoke at the same time. But Fíli continued, “Don't blame him entirely. We were the ones who betrayed him. I got pregnant.”_  
  
“Yes,” Bilbo interrupted, “But Thorin thinks that Fíli...”

“ _Bilbo! Please!” Fíli looked imploringly at the hobbit. His face contorted in pain and fear. Closer to her, to where he was sure Gandalf couldn't hear. “I don't want him to know... about... Thranduil. Please, Bilbo. I'm shamed enough.”_

_Bilbo nodded quickly before not giving another word.She tucked his short braids behind his ear and patted his cheek in reassurance._

“ _Where are you off to now, then?” Gandalf, looking as if he had been imparted upon a great conspiracy, asked the two wondering bearers._

“ _The Shire.” Bilbo spoke. She hadn't sounded too sure a few days ago, but she was sure now. “They will accept us. And if not? Well we can learn them a thing or two about manners, couldn't we Fíli?”_

“ _Yes, Miss Baggins, we could.” Fíli answered tiredly, but honestly._

“ _Well then, I should accompany you.”_

And that was months ago. Bilbo figured that they would have at least five or six more months before either was due. She was sure she had five, as Bilbo assumed she had conceived around the time of the trolls. 

So with that in mind, she and Fíli watched as Gandalf made his way back down Bagshot Row and disappeared around the corner. 

“And there he goes again.” Bilbo said, holding her rounded stomach as she turned and noticed Fíli's own stomach showing through tunic. It was spring now, and fauntlings and hobbits were making their ways around the hills to shake off the cold fingers of winter. Bilbo saw how her mailbox was full, how there was scratchings around the locks of her door, fingernail marks (which she would have never been able to identify had it now been for her adventures) along the creases of her shut windows. Lobilia (she assumed). “Where he goes and what he get's up to when he's not around I'll never know.”

“And I'll expect we never will.” she saw Fíli smile, a real smile, down at her as they watched four curious fauntlings go running by. 

“You know.” she began, “There's still daylight left.”

“Why yes. There is. It's only late morning anyways.” Fíli looked up, as Balin would have observed the weather himself. 

“And you know, there's a happy little festival that should be happening about now up in Annúminas.”

“Isn't that a fort of Men?” Fíli looked down at her, eyebrows drawn together.

“Yes. I've heard they could always use a good smith, those Rangers.” Bilbo smiled up at Fíli, his golden eyebrows furrowed, green-blue eyes blinking in the sun. “All it takes is one foot in front of the other. And when we can't do that anymore, we rest.”

“And then do it again?”

“And then do it again.”

With that, Bilbo took her first steps north of Hobbiton, where she had barely ever traveled before, and led the way to Annúminas. 

–

Three years. Three years and they'd finally made it. 

The winds howled around them, nipping and bitting like wolves at their heels and edges of their cloaks. 

They thought they had more time before winter set in. But the winds past the Mountains of Angmar proved to be more than beyond the extensive reach of Fíli's knowledge. They had made their way into Forodwaith only for them to die in the snow.

Bilbo shivered, tucking more of her coat and cloak of furs around her chest as her child snuggled safely and warmly against her chest. She looked over at Fíli to see him doing the same to his own child. She knew it was folly to travel this late in the season, but the dwarves that followed them from Fornost had recognized Fíli and assumed their propagated right to kill an exile and forced them to leave for Forodwaith much earlier than planned. They had initially thought on coming to the unknown lands since their children had been born, but to make sure the babes could make the trip they were going to wait a few more years. 

Fíli tightened his fur cloak around him just in time for a gust of wind to practically rip his pack off his shoulders and knocking him into a snow bank. Bilbo, in her boots, ran as fast as she could to help. Thankfully he had fallen on his back and his child was okay.

“This is madness! Bilbo!” Fíli's eyes were closed against the snow, his cheeks looked ready to bleed against the frost, his nose just the same, his lips were chapped and his beard and short mustache were covered in ice. 

Bilbo helped her friend and traveling companion up, he was full of snow and trying desperately not to allow any down his tunic and onto his child. Bilbo could feel hers struggling awake with all the movement. She feared they would die in this wasteland and they would never be found. By Yavanna, Mahal or anybody. 

Just as she was about to admit to her fears, she saw a light, a fresh candle through the twilight casted over the icy land. It twinkled and found it's strength at last before being moved further into the structure.

“There's a house!” Bilbo screamed over the winds. “Over there!”

Fíli had found his balance and turned to where she was pointing. Sure enough, a snowy structure with wood beams sticking out in some ends stood against the winds and snow. He nodded and gripped her hand and led the way. 

Coming up on the door, Fíli didn't bother knocking before dragging her through the threshold. They shook off the snow and noticed other, larger, boots by the door (muck boots, Fíli called them), cloaks with fresh snow and ice (three of them, one very small) and about five packs. 

Snow, ice and water trailed further into the structure, the inside mostly made of intricately carved wood and ivory, red dyed furniture and other furnishings took up most of the coloring, gold and a few coppery colors included. And that was just the foyer. They could see and hear the cackle of a fire deeper inside the house.

“Hullo!” Fíli called out, Bilbo's hand on her freezing sword. She gave it a cursory glance and didn't see it glowing. “Hullo! We just came in. We aren't here to rob.”

“Yes, Fíli, panic them why don't you.” Bilbo said at his shoulder. They hadn't removed their packs or cloaks, but they made their way further in, cautious. 

“It's only good manners, Bilbo.” Fíli answered back. Their arms wrapped around their chests to protect more than their own bodies. 

Suddenly, a child came around the corner, he had thick brown tunics on, thick wool pants, and comfy fur boots, but what stood out most about the child wasn't his steel gray eyes, or his tattoos on his cheeks, but his blood-red hair, it looked like ropes, with a few braids weaved through it. Gold and ivory beads threaded through. 

“Hello.” Fíli spoke softly. “We just came in from the blizzard, we're sorry to intrude. My name is Fíli, and this is Bilbo... see we're-”

“Och! Tha lad can't heer!” A voice, rumbled throughout the house with the thickest accent Fíli had ever heard. The blond dwarf shivered as it reminded him of the sound a bear would make before taking a bluff charge. He didn't like being cornered by a bear. “Def since birth. The fire's just lit why don' you-”

And he was as big as a bear to boot. 

The dwarf stood against the post of the foyer, hand protectively on the wee one's head, his hair just as red as the boy's. Red eyelashes, red brows, short red beard and mustache. His hair was all in ropes, multiple gold beads throughout and ivory hoops at some of the ends. They were swept back and out of the dwarrows' face where Fíli realized that his skin was bronze and his eyes, dear Mahal his eyes were gold! They glowed with all the depths of the shinning metal for all they were worth, enticing Fíli to stroke them in reverence. He was built like a mountain, no, like a bear, hulking shoulders, thick waist and arms (though not too large), his meaty thighs though, Fíli salivated at that bulk. What stone was this dwarf made of?

“Oi, did the snow freeze yer brain, or sumtin?” The red-dwarf spoke, chuckle at the edges of his speech. “Or did ye turn back into stone, pretty dwarf?”

Pretty, eh? Perhaps it was time to introduce himself before the red-haired, thick headed, imbecile of a dwarf got any thoughts about him where Fíli's vanity was concerned. He wasn't pretty at all. And Fíli was willing to teach with fist on how dwarfish he was. That was, until his child started crying.

“Is that a CHILD I hear crying, Erlen? Or did Erkin kick you in the stones again?” a female's voice cackled above the fire and to the left of the foyer. Erlen pointed down the hall and the dwarf child ran in that direction. 

“We got company!” the bear of a dwarf, Erlen, spoke, something distasteful in his mouth. 

Erlen indicated the pegs to their left for their cloaks, Fíli's child was squirming too much to keep within his tunic for much longer. Bilbo stopped in her uncloaking and unpacking to accept Fíli's dark-haired babe. 

“Two breeders with children.” Erlen's turned back to the room he came out of when Fíli tackled him. 

This barbarian was rude enough to suggest that Fíli had been simple minded (and with the surprise of a dwarf with so much bulk and blood-red hair, who wouldn't be open to ogle?), or to say that he was pretty and undwarf-like, but to call _Bilbo_ something close to a whore was the final straw to the exiled prince. 

And he wasn't unused to street tussles in someone else's name. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwahahaha! You still have to wait to find out the gender of Bilbo's baby. Boy, girl? Och! I'm so excited about the next chapter you can't even imagine!
> 
> Heartaches still to come. I'm assuming you're catching on to how I like da' flashbacks throughout the story. More Fili/Kili to come as well as Thranduil/Fili and Thorin/Bilbo.


	5. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's taught himself control, he's taught himself to succeed, all because he was counted on by his nadadith. Now, without him, he's alone, raising a child that he loves, with a friend who's raising his cousin, and he still feels alone. An itch tries to consume him, and a transgression against him causes him to lose control. A first since his nadadith. Everything is about him... isn't it?

_Pound, tink, tink. Pound, tink, tink, tink. Pound, tink..._

It is the rhythm that makes up the blacksmiths shop on an early summer morning. The air was still crisp and tingled on your skin when you sat in the shadows. But the shade of the makeshift blacksmith's shop wasn't cool at all, as one would expect. The heat from the forge kept the immediate area at such a heat that the blacksmith, a certain fair haired dwarf with shortened braids at his temples and a lack of mustache, perspired under it.

Fìli was at his anvil in the fort of men Annùminas where he and Bilbo had been for the last two and a half years. Their children born- healthy, beautiful and with no idea who their father's will ever be- the mother and papa decided to stay within this fort for work as their children grew old enough to travel. Fìli had taken an apprenticeship at the blacksmith's. The man, Roddick, was only too happy to take Fìli, a dwarf, on as their craftsmanship was unmatched by most (and if the old man admitted to it, Fìli was better than him as far as smithing went, but the blond had insisted on being an apprentice first). 

Bilbo had been able to teach the women of the fort how to plant and grow and properly harvest plants and herbs. Bilbo became a quick favorite among the women; she found friends easy but kept to herself and kept her time for her child. She helped Fìli's wet nurse take care of his son when she could while his papa worked the forge.

Fìli was drawing out a nail into its final shape when he heard the heavy trod of boots on the dirt floor. Since the old man was out buying more metal blocks, Fìli was left to run the shop until Roddick came back.

"I'll be right with you." Fìli finished drawing the nail and gave it a final twist before putting it in the water bucket at his feet. He placed his tongs on the nail rack on a post (where it belongs, "everything in its proper place, lad") and turned to look up at the Man who entered. He was shorter than most, almost of majority, black stringy hair, and a wide gait. "How can I help you?"

"I was wondering, sir, if you could design a few small blades for me? I have coin, and I have the talent if you are wondering." The Man spoke, a little nervously.

"I honestly couldn't care about talent, for mine isn't the best so I don't expect great talent to wield my blades." Fìli undid the heavy leather apron around his neck and allowed it to hang from his dwarf narrow hips. He invited the lad over and they sketched out vague designs of the hilt and the curve of the blade. Fìli couldn't help but give it the angles of a dwarvish blade, but gave it the gradual widened grip of a Man's hilt.

"How long do you think it would take?" Said Hyrim, the Man. "I have it in mind as a gift, actually."

"It should be done within a fortnight, if all goes well. My child is ill so I'm not sure if it could be done sooner." Fìli grabbed some parchment and a stick of charcoal from his writing desk, "I need to buy some steel from a merchant who happens to be in town today, so you're in luck. Or we are, since my friend broke our last ladle."

Fìli gave a lopsided grin and Hyrim returned the smile. "You and the hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, are living together aren't you?"

"Yes." Fìli hesitated. “We are."

"Haha, she's currently helping my betrothed with her garden. She recommended you to me." The lad smiled, bigger this time.

"Congratulations." Fìli smiled painfully.

By nightfall Fìli had made it home just as his son's wet nurse, Maren, was leaving. They exchanged pleasantries, his son ate well, his fever was breaking, and she needed payment soon. Fìli agreed and said he would have her coin soon, when he was paid for the nails and the apothecary's cauldron.

"Rough day?" Bilbo said from her cooking fire. She held her own daughter, Nirin, or Nira as Fìli called the babe, in her arms as she flipped the sizzling deer flanks. Fìli dropped himself in his armchair and rubbed at his temples. His hair was still pulled up and off of his neck; the cool of the evening chilling his skin to gooseflesh, his tunic was too thin to keep him warm.

Standing up, Fìli moved over to the fire to stoke it back to life. All day he's around a fire, and he's feared he'd become used to the heat. Now he understood why his uncle was always wrapped in furs and complaining about the cold. It wasn't because he was old, like Fìli's little brother would tease of, but because he had grown used to the heat and the flame.

Fire properly stoked, the blond dwarf moved to the kitchen to get a drink of water from the water barrel. "Not so much as rough as long. I was worried about the little one all day."

Bilbo hmmed before asking silently for Fìli to take her daughter. She served up the flanks on two plates with chunks of baked potatoes and sprigs of leaves Fìli usually never ate.

Fìli cooed at his little cousin, bouncing her and making faces. She was unimpressed with his attempts and let him know.

"Ugh." Fìli scrunched his nose. "You're daughter doesn't like me."

"I guess she expects better." Bilbo laughed and took the small bundle from Fìli and went to change her cloth.

The dwarf looked down at their meal, ale placed on the table and lacking cutlery. He rubbed his stomach as it growled but put it off to search for his son.

Their flat was small, sitting above the blacksmith's shop, it kept warm most of the days from his forge, but during the night it was too cold for him ("A blessing from the heat, lad. I don't see how you can stand it all day and want to come home to a hot flat." Bilbo said all too often). It was one room, Bilbo and the children shared the bed, the kitchen, dining room and sitting room were conjoined in a distorted u-shape imitating the shop downstairs. There was a washroom, with no plumbing. They both groaned at that.

In the two steps it took to get to the bedroom Fìli lit a candle to illuminate the room his son slept in- Bilbo was changing Nirin’s cloth on the floor by the fire. The poor lad had taken on bit of a cough, only expected from Fìli as a majority of his childhood was spent sick in a bed. But the fever scared him when it arrived. The poor child was sopped in sweat one morning, laying between rolled blankets and elder cousin, that Fìli panicked and had set out for herbs to help break the fever.

It had only been a cold, and Nirin had caught it, passed it to his son, and had already recovered.

Not trying to blame his baby cousin, Fìli dropped the memories and fears as soon as he saw his son’s dark blue eyes.

“Hello, son of mine.” Fìli cooed and his son reciprocated. Arm’s flaying and legs kicking Fìli’s son was as energetic as any child, drool and a little bit of spit-up dribbling down a lightly furred cheek. Fìli wiped away the muck, completely unfazed at this point in parenthood. “Ah! How were you today? Papa missed you. Yes. Yes he did. Absolutely.”

Fìli talked nonsense as he re-swaddled his kicking son and wondered at how the infant always was able to unwrap himself in the middle of sleep. Nadadith _had been like that._ Fìli thought sorely, heart clenching at the memory. _He’d always end up with blankets either wrapped like a trap around his legs or with them scattered all over the floor._ Fìli smiled at his son, trying to forget things that are lost.

“It’s strange, you know.” Fìli said when he walked over to the table where mother and daughter were eating. “ _Amad’s_ family were the Blacklocks, and my son’s hair is as fair as mine.”

“It was dark when he was born. Children are shifting creatures. My mother had once told me I was born with purple eyes, then, one summer, they were green.” Bilbo said, chewing on a crisp potato with rosemary.

“Yeah, I suppose.” Fìli tucked into his steak and potatoes, skirting around the leaves. “ _Nadadith_ was born with light hair too. Lighter than his was… I guess I’m just surprised that his hair is keeping the color.”

“He could-“ Bilbo stopped, chewed the rest of her potatoes, contemplating on broaching the subject. “He could be… you know.”

“Thranduil’s son.” Fìli nodded solemnly and looked down at the bundle in his arms.

Bilbo let him eat and think on that one, waiting for his reply.

Bilbo had let Fìli know that she had witnessed the rape the first week on the trail, on their way around Long Lake. Fìli wasn’t happy about that, not one bit. But the dwarf had bitten his anger and asked her what she had seen, what she had learned. Part of him wanted to be rid of the burden and the other part, a larger part, was afraid of what she might think of him after all of that.

Turns out Bilbo was more receptive and a lot kinder about his situation than he would have thought. He had asked her if she had told… the king. She had, and that made him angry again though in lesser degrees. It still made no matter. Banishment was banishment, a slight in the eye of a mind-diseased king who had suffered at the designs of a stone. And if Fìli was at all truthful, a stone that wasn’t that beautiful to begin with.

“There’s no way of telling until he’s older. He looks so much like _Nadadith_ from when he was a child and either way he’s blood. I can’t tell.” Fìli was sorrowful at the admission. The days between his brother and Thranduil were too close to be sure, _Nadadith_ always had fine features (being called ‘pretty’ and ‘elf’ by other dwarflings as children was hard medicine to swallow), the color of hair wasn’t anything to decipher from (Fìli’s younger brother was blond when he was born, and he had never deigned to ask his mother what color he was when he was born), his eyes were typical of Blacklock’s and Thranduil’s kin, it drove him mad most nights at how similar both were that there were no defining differences. “But that all doesn’t matter because he is my son and my son alone.”

Bilbo watched from across the table and Fìli cuddled his son with his short beard and shorter mustache. It pained her in her heart, no, in her soul, to know that Fìli was the type of creature to need a partner in… well, everything. For the whole of his life he had his brother, she hadn’t known but before that he had been too sick to need someone to challenge him, to coax him, to stand by his side, to laugh with, to cry with, and to love. Before Fìli’s brother he was nothing, a husk, a shadow of a dwarf that was expected to wither away to nothing half a life before majority he’d been that sick.

“Is that why you hadn’t named him yet?” Bilbo asked cautiously. Her daughter was done eating, and she re-clothed before moving to burp the young Nirin. Fìli didn’t look up at her but nodded anyways.

“Yes. Part of it.” He admitted, crossing his legs to support a shaking arm where he cradled his son, and tucked back into his dinner, mindlessly eating the leaves on his plate. “The other is that _Amad_ or _Adad_ would traditionally have named him, if he was _Nadadith’s_ , and if he were Thranduil’s, well, I don’t know how they go about naming, and I don’t know any elvish names.”

“I would say you’re thinking too much about it. I could say it’s only a name, but I can’t agree with myself on that.” Bilbo finished her dinner and grabbed at the cup of barley water in front of her. “I have a relation, Lobelia, her name comes from a flower. It’s really pretty and the oils on the leaves keep away mosquitos, but I digress. The flower mean’s malevolence and she is an evil, cruel and spiteful woman that has lived up to its name. So be careful in choosing the lad’s name.”

Fìli looked up from his dinner, his son already unwound from his swaddling, wide blue-green eyes staring into Bilbo’s own. “Lobelia? A white-purple flower with waxy leaves?”

“Yes, the very same.” Nirin let out a healthy burp at last. “Why? Please don’t tell me you and he used to smoke it. It would make you dizzy and probably sick-“

“No. I had to take it as a child, we never smoked it, and I wouldn’t even let him try.” Fìli laughed at Bilbo’s skeptical look.

“You didn’t _let_ him? Or he just never got around to trying it?”

“I know what you mean, Bilbo. I can-could say ‘no’ to him, you know.” Fìli lifted his son in the air and blew hairy raspberries in the child’s folded neck. The lad let out a cry of surprise and laughter confused on the emotions.

“Sure you did, lad.” Bilbo bounced her bright blue-eyed daughter on her lap making faces at her and pulling squeals out of her.

“How is it you can get her to laugh at you? I practically have to be injured for her to even look my way. _Ow_.” as if to subconsciously prove a point, Fìli hit his elbow on the arm rest of his chair and tears welled in his eyes at the smart. Nirin immediately swung her head in his direction and cried in laughter, deep baby chuckles startling Fìli’s lad. “Oh, hush, son, hush, papa’s fine.”

Mother and daughter laughed at the easily excitable son and superbly attentive papa.

\--

The commissioned knives had taken longer than expected. Fìli’s son had finally recovered (still with a bit of rasping and a cough when he got too excited) but he just couldn’t get the cast right and then he couldn’t focus on the blade at all when the metal was rendered from impurities and poured into cast.

For some reason, and for reason’s he would like to know so he could avoid them, he thought of his brother more and more often. _Nadadith’s_ name was on the tip of his tongue, burning and biting, waiting for its release, to be breathed upon the air and offered up like incense at a funeral. He had hoped that it wasn’t an omen. And with no resources available to dissuade or confirm his worries, he was left to anvil and a badly folded blade.

The metal was ruined so he discarded it in a scrap pile and began melting another block.

_”Fìli…”_

The hoarse moan filled his mind, the memory suffused into his body from a time long past. Fìli twitched, shoulders and cock, at the sound of his _nadadith_ moaning his name.

_Pound, tink, tink. Pound, tink, tink, tink.._

Went the rhythm he’s learned to craft. Sun hot steel folded perfectly under his ministrations.

_”More…Fee!”_

Strike, strike, strike, fold. Strike, strike, tap, tap, strike, strike, fold. Sweat rolled down his temple, forge fire burning, melting his back.

_”Mahal, Fìli. If you don’t pound me right.”_

Strike, strike, pause. _Breathe_. Fìli returned the blade to the forge to reheat. Shoulder’s tense, he returned to the anvil where he placed gloved hands against the heavy tool, still feeling the heat through his gloves. His veins on fire as if he poured the liquid metal through them.

_”Why did you stop? -----'s beard, Fee, if you stop now.”_

_The threat went unheeded as Fìli bent down lower and nipped through breeches at the tender flesh at the joint of hip and thigh._ Nadadith’s _leg’s shook with barely contained pleasure as Fìli was close, too close, to his aching cock. The brunet’s balls drew up, as if to release, and his back arched like one of his favorite bows._

_“You were saying? Little brother?” Fìli mouthed at the hip bone, adam’s apple bobbing against trapped erection. By Mahal it would be so easy to unlace those breeches and take the burning, heavy, cock in his mouth and suck on his brother for all he’s worth. The blond prince wanted it so much he could practically taste the bitterness, the saltiness, the sweetness that would be his brother._

“Fìli!” Roddick called to him. “Bilbo’s here with lunch finally. Been starving all day!”

The Man took Bilbo’s wrapped lunch and sat in front of his cold anvil and tucked in the sandwich.

“Here you go, love.” Bilbo gave the sweating dwarf his. Distracted, and more than happy for the heavy leather apron covering his front, Fìli went to his sketch table and unfolded his own lunch.

Fresh baked bread, sliced cured pork, a wedge of yellow cheese and some sort of green that Fìli half dug out before taking a large bite.

“You okay, Fìli? You look distracted.” Bilbo’s cold hands on his shoulder made the dwarf shiver from the temperature difference, he twitched and ducked his head, saying he was fine.

“How are the children? With Maren?” Fìli asked around a bite of sandwich.

Unconvinced, Bilbo sighed and answered in the positive. Roddick was too busy with his own sandwich (“Better than me wife’s, rest her soul”). “You can't fool me Fìli. What's going through your head?”

Fìli took his time in chewing, swallowing, and collecting his thoughts.

He really wish it were easier to forget memories and names than it is. They sit there, the names, on the tip of his tongue, tickling, burning, and biting, wanting to be loosed. Then there are the memories, to burden him and make cracks within the armor of his guarded emotions. He could see the chinks, slipping away and exposing his tender and burnt soul. Only his ego he'd harnessed as a prince kept him from slipping into despair. Really there couldn't be two in the house who cried every night. 

“I'm fine.” was his curt answer. He chewed on his sandwich as a cow would his cud. Senselessly, mindlessly and tastelessly over-chewed. He drew within himself, trying to fortify his armor before he heard it again.

_”Ughn.... Fee._

–

That night, before going upstairs, Fìli made his way to a tavern on the edges of the town. It wasn't so much a tavern as it was a shack that provided home-brew. The smell of fermented wheat pulp permeated the air around the small building as Fìli opened the door and went to take a seat across from a young (younger than Fìli in years anyways) Man and placed down a token. 

It was made of deer antler, the knotted base cut into a coin's shape and a brand with two stars and a single dwarven rune burned into it. It didn't look like much, especially when you flipped it this way and that. But the magic of it came from when it was tilted in candle light.

“Something nearby. Something small. One or two heads.” Fìli spoke softly, sternly.

“Lifting?” The Man said raising his leather tankard to his lips placing the token on the table with a _clack_. The leather mug was old and cracking in places, his ale dripping down and splashing onto the worn, naturally polished wood.

“Doesn't matter. As long as it's wet.” Fìli replied.

“There's a few Feet involved, tiny one's.” 

“NO! No Feet. I don't do that. Look at the coin.” Fìli's fist slammed down, bouncing said token. But the Man didn't pick it up again. He put his mug down and licked obscenely at his lips, gaze trying to burn through the dwarf's clothes. Fìli pretended the Man was looking for hidden weapons. 

“Well, that's the only nearby one I have. A few little Feet. But if it's something wet you want ye can go all the way to Fornost. Got a coupla' Harry'd ones to get rid o'.” Another slurp from the leather tankard. 

Fìli contemplated it. Could he really do it? Did he need it that badly? Fìli grabbed his token and stood up from the bench.

“I'll wait till you got something, then.” Fìli put down a few coppers to pay for another round for the Man and left without another word. Eyes followed him out, Fìli could feel them marking his skin. But he didn't care. If anyone followed it would only be making his night better.

Home again, the blond dwarf with slight tremors running through his body stood at the bottom of the stairs. Head hung he tried to catch his breath. The burn in his chest aching his lungs and tearing at his throat. His lungs felt like they were trying to cramp, constrict until he simply couldn't breathe anymore. He knew this feeling well and forced himself to keep breathing. He lifted his arms and placed his hands on his head to help expand his chest and give his lungs room to swell properly. His heart beat was irregular, but that could have been from all the running and jumping. 

Sweat cooled on his skin, vapors rising up into the chilly night, swirling and dissipating before he could put names to the shapes it resembled. Fìli closed his eyes talking himself into calming a little more before his lungs decided to stop pitching a fit and cooperate. 

Never so thankful for his patience and experience Fìli was now able to slowly climb the stairs. His head still swam with all the buzz lack of air created between his ears. Hand gripped the latch and switched it before pushing the heavy door open. He was still breathing hard when he felt steel at his throat. 

“Fìli!” Bilbo lowered Sting and pulled the dwarf in. She was angry, he could tell, but he still didn't have enough air in his lungs to explain why he was so late coming home when the forge's fire went out long ago. He slowly put his knife back into the hilt hidden in his sleeve before gently kicking the door closed behind him. “Where on this good earth have you been? I've been worried sick! I thought that maybe you had been taken. OR WORSE! Do you have any idea how worried I was, not knowing where you had gone? You have a son here that need's his papa, and I have a daughter that is being far too fussy at this point in her teething to be assuaged by simple song when I can't even concentrate on- Fìli, what's wrong? Why is your face red?”

He was still having trouble breathing. He pointed to the kitchen and she followed. He pulled out a small pouch filled with leathered vials of herbs from his tunic. There was one with a blue painted cork and he unstoppered it after he prepared the kettle for tea. The dried flowers in it shifting as he dumped what was left into a ceramic mug.

Bilbo watched silently and gasped when she realized what the dried flowers were. “Lobelia?”

Fìli nodded and waited for the water to boil still trying to suck in air. 

Later, when the tea was drunk and the children were put to bed by Bilbo (Nirin still awake and fussing while the other dwarfling slept peacefully), the two adults sat before the fire watching the flames lick at coals and wood.

“Why are you drinking lobelia?” Bilbo finally asked, cracking of burning wood filling the air after her. To her left the blond dwarf sighed and steepled his finger as elbows rested on his knees. He was leaned forward, blue-green eyes reflecting the fire in front of him. His brows pulled together in thought.

“When I was born I was really sick.” Fìli began, he closed his eyes, remembering days spent in bed, not having the energy to move. “I was born early and the healers said that my lungs weren't the right size for me. I couldn't breathe right, _Amad_ said I had the death rattle since birth, and that they were afraid that one night I might just stop breathing. 

“ _Adad_ worked in the mines and _Amad_ stitched and sewed to keep us fed. I was confined to bed, I couldn't move, could barely talk when I learned words. _Adad_ would sit with me all night, holding my hand as I slept, worried I would slip away, _Amad_ would hold my hand when he wasn't there, when she could anyways.” Fìli cleared his throat, and sat back in his creaking chair. Bilbo was enraptured by his story, she had never heard anything of the lad's past. 

“One day, when _Adad_ got home, she fed us honeyed sweet-cakes. It was traditional when a bearer was pregnant. She spent a lot of coin to get the honey and flour. She spent all day carefully preparing it. And I still remember the smell while it baked. When he came home, I barely remember her telling him, then she looked at me and smiled and said: 'you're going to be a brother.'

“I was so excited that I started seizing, my lungs not strong enough whenever I got too eager. They made me drink the tea before I promised myself that I would get stronger. For my sibling, who ever it would be. 

“So I pushed myself, everyday, to sit up by myself without my lungs convulsing. Then I tried to get out of bed, across the living room (we only had the one large room for a house and they let me have the small bed), then I tried making it out of the house. Of course,” Fìli laughed then, his dimples showing as he bowed his head shaking it, lost in memory, “they were scared. _Amad_ and _Adad_ would try to help me, and I would push them away. I watched as her stomach got bigger and bigger, and I was only able to shuffle to the door before collapsing. _Adad_ would always bring me back to bed, tuck me in and ask me:

_”Why are you doing this son? Your going to kill yourself one day!” light green eyes shifted color with his emotions. The large, faceless dwarf hovered over his sickly son, Fìli only took measured breaths, teaching himself control._

_“Because,” the dwarfling looked to his_ Amad _, “my sibling is going to need a big brother,_ gasp _and I can't be one if I'm so sick. I'm teaching my body to breath.”_

“He told me that if I was so adamant in teaching my body to breath, to have control, then he was going to teach me to plan ahead. He stopped taking me back to my bed after that day, and I had to figure out how much energy I had to make it to where I needed and back to bed before I grew too tired to move. 

“Eventually, I was able to make it outside. Then, down the lane where we lived. I'd never been outside before and it was bright, and ugly, and beautiful all in the same. It was everything I feared, everything I hoped it would be and everything I couldn't imagine. By then _Nadadith_ was born and I pushed myself harder. I made it to the edge of town, then, when I couldn't go any further...”

Fìli looked over to Bilbo, who was crying and clutching her hands under her chin, entirely enraptured. Fìli smiled, “I ran.”

_It was the sun in his hair, heating his skin as he felt an old burn in his lungs that suddenly felt great! It meant his lungs were working, that he could still run and not fall over in blackness._

_He ran through stalls and jumped over crates and yelled and laughed at the top of his lungs while doing it, reveling in the fact that he could. It was the best day of his life. His brother was here. Finally! And he could run, and he could jump, and he could climb trees. And he could_ breathe! __

_This would definitely be one of the best days of his life. He ran into other dwarfling's, ones who would make fun of him for struggling for so long just trying to get down the road without keeling over. Now he was able to run faster than them, to jump higher than them, and to finally just BREATHE!_

_And the best part of the end of his runs, at the end of his trainings. He could turn around, run home,_ run _, and hold his baby brother. The dwarfling with no fluff on his chin or cheeks, and make his first promises. He was looking forward to brown eyes, dark blond hair, that toothless smile, that firm, small grip, that small, almost heavy little dwarfling boy who was all of a sudden his world. And then, he was in the dirt, the fine powder rising up and threatening to seize his lungs._ Control. Breathe. Hold your breath from the dirt. Control. __

_“Easy there, lad.” The thick voice above Fìli that belonged to the mountain that he ran into sounded vaguely familiar. But he wasn't sure if he'd ever actually heard it before. “Here, let's get you up.”_

_The mountainous dwarf brushed off the dirt from Fìli's clothes after standing him up. Then, in a gentle voice he said, “There. Where are your_ Amad _and_ Adad _little one?”_

_“Fìli, there you are, I've been calling for you all morning! Your brother needs you, he just won't stop crying when you're out of the house-oh!” the blond's_ Amad _stuttered, hitched her breath, hand to her mouth, and began crying. “You've finally made it brother! Oh! Look! Fìli is out of bed! And running! And- oh! You're back!”_

_“---, it's good to finally be back.” The dwarfling's_ nadadûn _looked down at him, surprised. “This is Fìli? But you said he was sick. That he would be bed bound the rest of his life.”_

_“I guess being an older brother inspired him to fight.”_ Amad _laughed behind her hands before_ nadadûn _began laughing too and hugged his sister and twirled her around, singing congratulations and then picking Fìli up and hugging him too. That's when his lungs decided to revolt and seize again._

Bilbo laughed at the last bit. Tears falling fatter and quicker. Fìli felt bad for mentioning his nadadûn, but that was part of his happy memory that he forgot about his friend's own pain. He watched her shoulder's shake, laughing or crying, as she blew her nose on her hand-kerchief. 

“Oh, Fìli, I didn't know ANY of that!” She went over to her lad and hugged him, he laughed and pulled her onto his lap, she followed suit and let out her own choked chuckles. “Oh, you.”

She held on to his neck for a bit longer, head in the crook of his neck, sobbing onto his clothes intermittently. He missed this, being able to cuddle with someone close to his size. It was why he was holding his son whenever he could. To feel the weight of a body (baby or adult), to feel like he was needed, like he was wanted. That he had value. 

And after everything that the two bearer's had went through, he assumed that Bilbo needed that validation too. 

Night fell deeper and darker. Bilbo heard Fìli crying out from the bedroom. She slowly got up from the bed and padded across the room and out into the living room. Fìli was curled up in his arm chair (wide enough for a large sized Man but at a dwarf's height), blanket clutched around his chin Bilbo gasped at what she saw. 

Without hesitation she silently dragged her own chair next to him, grabbed the extra pillow and blanket from the chest between the chairs, and tucked herself in. Reaching out her own hand, she gripped the dwarf's calloused one and he immediately stopped whimpering. 

He had been wrapped in his blanket, looking to all the world like a comfortable bug-in-a-rug except for his hand that escaped the woolen blanket. His hand had flexed, looking for someone to hold it. Fìli had been searching for his parents, possibly, specifically, his _Adad_ as he had always held his hand at night. Fresh tears streaked down her face as she watched her lad's face gentle after finding his hand full of her small one. 

She wasn't blood. She wasn't there for his childhood. And she'd never been there at night (except for when it got too cold on the journey back) for her touch to be overly familiar through dreams. But apparently it was enough. Bilbo assumed he was that starved for gentle contact that he could accept even her. 

Through his dreams, Fìli saw his brother, shifting in ages before his eyes, same brown eyes, same smile, as he gripped his hand tightly, needy, jealously, covetously, and selfishly. The grip wasn't the same, but it was what he needed. 

\--

Fìli woke up feeling more refreshed than he had in years. Even if his chest was bruised and his arms were sore, he felt better inside. He wouldn’t say he was more elated this morning than he had ever been, but he definitely felt better. He rolled his head and shoulders working out the kinks from sleeping in an arm chair and shook out the consistently numb feeling from his hand.

“Morning, sleepy head!” Bilbo spoke from her frying pan. She was cooking breakfast, if she was cooking now then either she was up early or he was-

“I’m late!” Fìli sat up and tried rolling out of his makeshift bed and ended up on the floor when the blankets tangled around his knees. He fell with an ‘oof’ and there was a child laughing somewhere in the flat. 

Bilbo’s laughter followed him into the bedroom where he kissed son then cousin on their cheeks and looked for a fresh tunic. He decided to leave his breeches on from yesterday, and even though there were stains they could easily be hidden, he pulled on one of his grey loose knit cotton tunics (it breathed better in the heat), and picked up his son for one more hug. “The sun shines on you this morning. The day has started because you are here. May you grow to be as strong as mountains, as beautiful as mithril, and your beard long and healthy. I love you, my son. Have a good day!”

His son giggled at the hairy kiss from his papa before Fìli moved to his cousin and sung her the same praise. It was something that his mother would wake him up with and it was sung for his _nadadith_ until the morning he didn’t. 

Fìli grabbed the bacon sandwich Bilbo handed off to him on his rush out the door then down the stairs. Fìli was supposed to start the forge in the early morning and have it hot enough for when Roddick came hobbling in. Today though, the roles were switched. Fìli pushed out an apology around his sandwhich.

“Don’t worry about it, lad. I was up early this morning. ‘Tis my wife’s black anniversary. Had to make a visit before coming in.” Roddick stepped on the crate he used to reach at the various tools overhead. “How is your son? Doing better?”

“Aye.” Fìli swallowed his sandwich. “His fever finally broke and he was bright eyed this morning. Up before his papa.”

Fìli picked up his apron and put it on over his head and arranged his tools the way he liked them and drug out some of the casts he’d been working on. 

The morning was routine. Fìli finally was paid for the chain’s and cooking pot (to which a part went to Roddick as shop owner, flat owner, and mastersmith), and had just enough to pay Maren when she came by. Which would be any moment now so the dwarf didn’t bother putting any of his projects into the forge for heating as Maren and Bilbo would be by to give lunch to the men. 

Fìli hummed under his breath, it wasn’t loud enough that Roddick heard him over the pounding of hammer on anvil, but it was loud enough for two women to hear it from behind him.

“I haven’t heard that song in years!” Maren spoke, looking down on Fìli as she handed off the freshly bundled lad to papa. Fìli let loose a blinding smile meant for his son and cradled him against his chest.

“Hello, son of mine!” the child cooed, as was his natural greeting, “I have missed you this morning.” 

“Oh, you’re a needy papa. Always saying you missed him.” Maren laughed as she took a seat at the lowered sketch table meant for a dwarf. 

“Well I do, don’t I?” Fìli addressed wet nurse but looked to son. “I have your pay. It’s on the table in the sache.”

“Thank you! Now I can buy that bolt of fabric for my mother.” Maren spoke excitedly. 

Fìli paid more attention to his son, playing with his escapist hands and nuzzling beard against soft cheek, while Bilbo set up a hearty lunch and produced ale’s for the boys. Fìli ate his soup and bread with one hand and bounced his son with the other. 

“He’s getting bigger.” He said out loud. “They both are.”

He looked over to his baby cousin and smiled at her as she glared her darkening eyebrows at him. Bilbo laughed at the interaction.

“Yes, but they still aren’t ready. Are they?” Hobbit asked dwarf in a semi-secretive way. The citizens of Annùminas knew that their two new residents wouldn’t be there forever. One was a dwarf, those wanderers anyways, and the other a hobbit who was by now missing her Shire, for sure. That was the semi, the secret was of their status against a dwarven crown across the Misty Mountains. 

“No.” Fìli agreed.

“Master Fìli, I have plans to visit me mum after Bilbo and I go to the market. She’s missing da terribly and I want to make sure she’s feeling fine. Would you mind if I took the lad with me? My children are there and I’m sure he could use a break from his cousin.”

Maren was a sweet lass, again so much younger than Bilbo or he but more mature than either, and Fìli found it easier to agree with her. The lad could use some different company, but Fìli’s ‘motherly’ anxiety kicked in to overdrive.

He tried to come up with reasons why she couldn’t take the boy. Why he should stay here. And why she shouldn’t need to take his son with her. But Bilbo had said, on more than two dozen occasions this past winter alone, that he over thinks things far too often. And it was true. He couldn’t help but agree that there were dangers he concocted and imagined, situations that needed simple answers rather than his complex opinions. With a regretful sigh, he allowed Maren to take his son for the rest of the day over to her mother’s. 

“Don’t you worry, Mister Fìli. He will be fine. I’ll walk Miss Bilbo home and check in before I go to my mother’s.” Maren, rosy cheeked and wind-strewn hair stood up to leave the shop when he nodded his approval. “Those two men killed last night has put everyone on alert. I suppose you haven’t heard about it though, have you?”

“Two men?” Fìli asked, not really wanting to listen to speculations. 

“Well, a half-breed Man and dwarf, and another man, claimed to be just so violent that nobody misses them.” Maren spoke as if it were a conspiracy. 

“That’s a terrible thing.” Bilbo exclaimed.

“They found the bodies near that old night-watch shack at the edge of town, where they make that home-brew.” Roddick mumbled. Nobody saw Fìli twitch. The vehemence with which both Man and Woman spoke of the night-watch, he hated to think if they knew-

 

“Yes, I’m sure they were trying to attack a young one. They said they saw them dragging a poor lad into the shadows. No one, of course, wanted to step in. Those two,” Maren shivered, “they were up to no good. They say they’ve raped boys up and down Erid Luin and even in Bree.” 

Fìli’s blood grew cold, colder than the ice that sat permanently in his veins. Now he wasn’t so sorry for their fall. Now he reveled in the feel their blood left on his hands as he gripped a solid hand over their mouth and watched their life spill from their split throats. 

Those two, unfortunate and incapable night-watchmen they were, tried following him last night. They did get the upper hand on Fìli, because of his size, and began disrobing him quickly and attempted to shove things in his mouth to keep him from gasping for help. 

But Fìli was better than that. Better than them. He waited until they started trying to work their cocks and pull at their strings to free themselves and shove inside him forcefully to act. The (half-breed) man-dwarf, tried shoving inside him first. Their first mistake was not knowing what type of token he had earned. Their second, choosing him. He dispatched them as quickly as he could, again his size had worked against him, earning himself a few good punches to the chest. The knock on his ribs made him gasp and set him into mini-seizures. He fought through them, very difficult that, and ended up a sweating, out of breath mess before the Man’s throat was appreciatively slit. 

He was far too good at killing, as his token stated. 

“What is the night-watch?” Bilbo asked, gripping child to her chest.

“They’re killers.” Fìli supplied holding his son in front of him, distantly staring into the bright eyes. “Most of them. They’re contractors for every crime under the sun.”

“Or moon. As they operate in the dark, hence, night-watch.” Roddick said ominously before finishing his meal.

Fìli spent the rest of his day fixing his casts, pounding on iron and steel that he was too distracted to realize that Roddick had already left for the day. Fìli had only noticed because it had gotten so dark within the shop that Fìli looked around to see what had been blocking the door and window from sunlight. But it was the lack of such that created the darkness around him. 

He sighed and shook his head. He put hammer and tongs back in their place and went around the shop putting things in order before locking the door’s latch behind him. Apparently the good mood that had woken up with him had provided the distraction throughout the day and left him slightly smiling while climbing the stairs. But all that good feeling dropped out from the pit of his stomach when he realized that no one was home. Hadn’t Bilbo come back from her shopping? She had checked in with him, asking what he wanted for dinner. Fìli kissed his son one last time for the afternoon before Maren left with him to her mother’s. But now the flat was empty, the fire place cold and no dinner had been started.

Panic, true and full, filled his chest with icy dread. He forced himself to focus, forced himself to keep the control over his lungs before they started seizing. _Control. Breathe. Control. Think, where could they be?_ Fìli turned on his heel and ran down the stairs, still vying for control over his own body. 

Everything was going to be alright. They were only at Maren’s. They have to be. The old woman was missing her husband, who was at work abroad. Bilbo is a caring sort, she would have went with Maren. They lost track of the day. They _had_ to be. 

Fìli found the house that Maren’s mother lived in, the door notched with her healer’s title in common. He pounded at the solid oak before the latch was lifted and Bilbo answered it. Fìli noticed that Bilbo had been crying, until recently. Her eyes still a little wet and red rimmed, her cheeks and chest blotched red with stress. 

“OH! Fìli! I’m so sorry!” Turning around the hobbit half yelled into the healer’s house. “Maren, it’s Fìli, it’s dark already. Oh, she knew this would happen. Come in, lad.”

Fìli stepped in to the house and attempted to continue controlling his breath. Bilbo saw his panicked state and went to soothe him. She rubbed his upper arm, feeling him tense underneath the layers of his tunic. His breath began slowing, gulping in air, and his legs felt something like a newborn’s. 

“I know just the thing for you, lad. I’ll go get your son.” Bilbo forced Fìli to sit on a foot stool as Maren came around the corner from, presumably, the kitchen red faced and crying. 

“I’m so sorry, lad. Mother was just telling us how she missed father. Would you like some-“

A scream, more a bellow of disbelief and grief, filled the house. Before Fìli could gather the strength after losing his breath he bolted down the hall following Bilbo as best he could. 

Inside a room Fìli found Bilbo clutching her heart and apron, mouth open and screaming. She pointed to the bed, where sheets were disrupted and strewn everywhere and mud on the sill and bedding. 

Fìli saw white, his head cleared and fuzzed at the same time. His panic went into overtime and his anger boiled over to levels he’s never experienced. He’d never been stalked by foolish night-watchers. He’d been, back home in Ered Luin, practically untouchable because of his rank and skill. But here, where no one knew him by face or name (within the watch), he was exposed like the rest. And this proved it.

His son was gone. His cousin was gone. If he had been around, if he had been done on time, this wouldn’t have happened. 

Heather, Sandalwood and Ambergris. Scents from years ago filled his nostrils, propelling him into a vengeful and wrathful state. The sudden red energy he’s building up in himself felt ready to burst from his chest. The mark tattooed into his flesh burned with a need to spill blood at the transgressions of others. His failure to protect burned through the ice in his veins. All this… and he couldn’t breathe.

Fear. 

Fear was a bigger emotion and consumed him quicker than anything else. Fear didn’t taste like heather, sandalwood or even ambergris. It tasted like poisoned dirt. Tasted like copper. Tasted like failure. And before he could use the red energy of vengeance… he saw black.

And knew no more.


	6. Not a Home, He's too far away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili wakes from a dream, with conflicting emotions raging inside him he presses on to get his family back, however broken they are. And Bilbo finds out just what Fili had been doing for a living. But will she be too afraid of him and abandon him? Or will she be able to look past his dark and bloody past?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliche summary isn't it?

“…Drink this, and you might find yourself enjoying it.” The deep voice spoke from somewhere in the room. Fìli didn’t want to follow the movements the Elvenking made, he was too distracted at the crafted silver bottle in his grip. His hands shook slightly, more out of the chill in his bones than fear. 

His cell had been cold without proper clothes. The soft woolen blanket kept away most of the chill but the draft in the dungeons was a little more than expected. His sweet nadadith tried getting out of him how he got the blanket, and why he was naked to begin with. Fìli remembers saying something witty, but the memory died in the face of this elixir. 

It was his only way. There was no way he could disincline Thranduil. The elf had- 

“I’m waiting… dwarf.” Thranduil said with just as much ice as Fìli felt in his toes. It was all he could do to drink the bottles contents before the elf made to come around him again. The tray of food and water was pushed away, not by Fìli or by elf in a lustful haste, just, pushed away by the elf, silver clattering loudly to the floor. The dwarf heard the guards shift outside the door (it was open?) and Fìli found was beyond caring in a few moments. 

His skin prickled as his belly warmed. The crown of his head tingled (as it happened to him whenever embarrassment consumed him), his eyes fluttered at the sudden pleasure his body was feeling. He rubbed at his arms, initially to warm his limbs, but ended up moaning because of his own touch. 

“You may want to get to the bed.” Thranduil unbuttoned his (dress?) gown where it most mattered to the elf. Fìli groaned at the thought of being taken on the floor. 

_Wait! No! It’s not my brother, it’s the elf. I don’t love him._

_Who cares? Spread your legs, he’s touching you._

_Close them, don’t let him…_

_His hands are ICE! But they feel so good…._

“Deeper,” Fìli found himself moaning. He wanted to feel it deep, where nadadith had once touched him. Down by the creek it had hurt, a little, as there was nothing to ease the way. But here, in the comforts of a lavish elven room, Thranduil had rubbed oil that made his insides (where the elf touched) feel like an icy fire relaxing his muscles. 

He’d never guess that the elf would have done this. That he would have allowed him to be dirtied from a dwarf. But here was the truth of it. Thranduil was impatient as Fìli practically folded when the elf touched that spot inside of Fìli that _nadadith_ had found a few weeks ago. A long suffering moan that curved in pitch when the elf kept delving further, flexing fingers and pressed, oh so gently, at Fìli’s pleasure spot. 

Thranduil leaned further down, mouth open as if to either bite Fìli’s lips. His eyes, full of starlight and lust, consumed the soul of Fìli so completely that he feared he would never be rid of the memory of this. 

“Bed? Or-“ Thranduil shoved three fingers, thick to Fìli, and long, inside the dwarf causing him to groan and shut eyes at the pleasure that mounted forcefully inside of him. “Shall I lay you out here?” 

“I- I” Fili couldn’t finish his own thoughts, let alone his words. The feeling inside of him felt too intense, more intense than down by the creek. Fili half wondered what Thranduil’s cock would feel like in comparison to his brother. Then, suddenly, the fingers withdrew themselves and he was dragged and deposited unceremoniously on the silken bed. Threads of morning lights illuminated the silvery fabric laid out beneath him. He felt the silks and wriggled his body against it, lavishing in its smoothness. 

A mouth found its way to his collarbone (when had Thranduil laid himself atop Fili?) gently nipping and sucking bruises with tongue through teeth. It was almost all too much. He could feel his climax coming, a weakened dam against a roaring river. He was close, so close. 

“Ah.” Thranduil exclaimed in reproach and lifted himself quickly away from Fili, all touch pulling away from the dwarf, “Wouldn’t want you to become too pliant, my prince.” 

There was a gentle dragging against Fili’s cock, his member twitched mightily against the soft fabric, he wondered what the cloth was doing, snaking around his balls and shaft. It wound tighter and tighter, more and more layers wrapping around him. Fili hitched his breath and jerked his hips as more of a cut of fabric, ribbon, tied around cock and balls even more. How much fabric was there? What is the meaning of this? Fili finally looked down, between his legs, as nimble, white fingers tied an elegant bow atop his penis. The fabric was tight, so tight, Thranduil gave the crown a gentle flick, rubbed foreskin around the head, and jerked on Fili until the dwarf-prince cried out in orgasm. 

Fili expected there to be a crash, energy collapsing around him and dragging him to sleep, but he was awake, aware enough that he realized that there was no seed against Thranduil’s hand, or his own stomach. Where was it? What was going on? 

“This restriction will keep you from coming. Your seed will remain inside you…” Thranduil pulled aside his robe (color matching the bed and the seams melted, looking as if the elf was clothed in the bed sheets), long, lean cock jutting out from white, curly hairs. Fili looked for the customary piercings, or braids or beads in Thranduil’s intimate areas. Until he realized he was with an elf and not his beloved dwarf. 

“Just get on with it. Ah!” Fili’s prick was still sensitive, weeping though it may be, as Thranduil stroked it in reverence. He dragged his fingernails, blunt, against the underside of Fili’s cock pulling down his foreskin with it. Down the thick vein, the pulsing blood throbbing against the silk ribbon, gently poking Fili’s balls, and down lower in a molasses slow tease. Fili squirmed, wanting that feeling back of being filled, of fingers twisting and digging deeper into him, of prodding against his pleasure spot. Fili wanted it all, he just wished it was his brother who was teasing him. “Ughnn- - Mahal.” 

A long, hard, hot cock entered Fili, without fanfare and further preparation. It stung, but he assumed it was meant to sting, meant to rouse a dwarf. It would probably be too painful for an elf, Fili laughed in his head. 

His nerve endings were on fire. Every subtle touch by the air ignited the flame inside him, stoked it to become a burning inferno. The soft, gentle, demanding touches by the King made him wither and buck at the same time. It was confusing, these feelings he was having. His body was clearly enjoying it (if the second and third orgasm was anything to go by), but his heart stuttered in muted apology at the betrayal. Body enjoying, heart confused, wanting to cling to someone willing to pay attention to him, to look at him as lovingly as his brother does, and his mind, his mind tried replacing blonde with brown, with long nimble fingers with short strong ones, the long thick cock with, well, that was the same, if in different sizes. 

“Uhgnn, ah, shhhhiiiittteee.” Drugged was his body, pouring the sweet water out of his pores. His body, Thranduil’s as well, was drenched in sweat. Thranduil’s eyes never blinked, Fili remembered. “Thra-thranduil.” 

“Tell me you want this. Tell me you enjoy my touch.” Thranduil demanded, barely out of breath even though he pounded his hips against Fili’s in an uncharacteristically animalistic way. The elf was bent almost in half over Fili, mouth finding more hiding places for suck bruises. The squirming, writhing, lustful prince bucked in time with his bed partner, bowing his back and sending up his chest in offering, which the elf king took. 

Fili’s nipples were attacked again, ribs scratched with blunted nails, hard cock finding a home within the blond prince. He felt a twitch, felt Thranduil’s hips stutter. He was getting close. He wanted it to end. His skin no longer burned and tingled, not as intensely as earlier, his heart was no longer confused, his mind still trying at illusions. But the feeling alone, of being filled, thrust into so gently, body loved and adored even by the red leaves of autumn trees. It looked like spots of blood. 

“Tell me.” 

“I-“ _thrust_ “your cock. Yes.” Was all he could get out. All he wanted to say. It was all he could do to not form attachments. 

Thranduil gripped Fili’s cock, throbbing red with pre-cum drooling out in a continuous flow. The elf King pulled gently, twisting his wrist and rubbing foreskin along the crown. “YES! Yes.” 

Fili bucked, shuddered harshly against the cold limbed prison of his partner, cum forcing its way from its bonds. This orgasm was so intense, so pure in its release; Fili’s eyes rolled back, breath in long gasps. The dwarf barely felt Thranduil bucking into his limp body the last few times before spilling hotly into Fili. He could feel the cum shooting inside him. How much did the elf have? There was so much, it seemed. He could feel it dripping its way past Thranduil’s cock, drooling down his ass and soaking up into the ruined sheets. 

Above him, Fili noticed Thranduil almost frozen, mouth open wide, as if showing off his teeth in a gasp of pleasure, eyes wide and full of that nightmarish starlight. His steel-blue gaze pierced Fili’s soul and branded him in this moment and pale blond hair flayed out like a winter’s waterfall, freezing the delicate looking creature as if he were a statue of offering to bestial lusts. 

The evening sun trickled through and into the room. The decorative roots cast shadows across their skin, making it seem as if they made love underneath a full tree in the summer. The shadows didn’t dance, so it broke the illusion it was meant to make. Red leaves continued to float down from somewhere, covering Fili and Thranduil. The elf kept sat inside Fili for now. Hips shuttering from his release. 

“I could make you enjoy me.” Thranduil hovered his hand over Fili’s bearded cheek, “I could give you everything, if you remain with me. You’ll never yearn for anything, not even another’s touch. We could have this eternity together every night. I ask for so little, just let me rule you, and you can have everything you want. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave.” 

The confession, the words pouring from Thranduil’s pink lips made Fili almost choke. They were so heartfelt, unlike the frigid King he was before this moment. The blond king leaned over his prisoner again, lips drawing nearer, waiting for assent. Fili gasped, still rocked from his orgasm, his head was muddled with elation from his release, his body vibrated, and his heart jerked to the side somewhere as if body checking his lungs. His lungs, he suddenly couldn’t breathe. He choked on the stifled air around him. The heat from Thranduil all of a sudden too great to bear. 

“No.” Fili gasped out, his head lifting up from the wood floor. 

Disoriented, Fili looked around the strange room he was in. He could feel small hands at his back and shoulders, shaking him awake. 

“Fili, Fili wake up. Please wake up.” It was Bilbo, her crying shattered his memory (his dream?) and he remembered where he was at, what he was supposed to be doing. “The children, please.”

“Grab your things.” Fili ordered out, his lips were tingling from loss of breath. He felt like he had a seizure, his body ached from the day’s labor and the side of his head hurt where he fell on the floor.

He lifted himself from the floor, barely affording a glance around the still strange room. Just moments before he was beneath winding roots with an elf king, loosing himself in ecstasy, where now he was dealing with the kidnapping of his family. These events alone made him loose his head rather than the loss of air. Everything was so confusing, the wild dreams of a day in bed with the king and the feeling of being loved, of the ecstasy brought by those actions clashed horribly with the reality before him. He hated that he was at a loss of what to do. But that wouldn’t last for long. He knew exactly what was going on, even if he was disoriented.

He ordered for Bilbo to follow him, the weeping hobbit complying easily, wanting to get her child back as eagerly as the dwarf. Fili was afraid for what he knew Bilbo will eventually discover about him but he had to force himself to continue forward without hesitation. If he took too long he may lose the trail. Again, something his brother was better at than him… tracking.

They made it back to the loft quickly enough where he wanted to put off what he knew he had to share with the hobbit, but he had to get his son back, his cousin, and he couldn’t be sure he could depend on Bilbo if she realized too late who he was… or what he did. So while they went about the loft collecting their weapons Fili bolstered up the courage to spill one of his best kept secrets and in no time the blond exiled prince hid more of his weapons underneath his vest and was directing Bilbo outside and down the stairs. 

“Bilbo, I have to let you know,” He continued on, through the dark streets and down lanes and alleys, “before we catch up to them – and we will,”

He looked at her sternly, willing her to trust him.

“I’m part of the night-watch.” 

There was no beating around the bush, he didn’t have enough time for a drawn out confession, of telling her that it was the only way their family had survived malnutrition and lack of income after his father died in the mines. That his becoming part of that blood painted society had benefited his family in ways that she wouldn’t even begin to imagine. He just didn’t have that kind of time. And if he started now, more secrets will be biting at his tongue to come forward, and there were secrets that would get her killed for even knowing them. 

“What do you mean?” Bilbo gasped out behind him. She was keeping up, just as stealthy as she had always been.

“I’m part of the night-watch. There’s a particular talent I have, where in Ered Luin I wasn’t ever touched. But here, with no-one knowing who I really am, they don’t know to stay away.” Fili nearly growled as he turned a corner around the baker’s shop and moved on towards a shack against the cliff where the smells of fermented wheat enveloping the cool night air made Bilbo plug her nose against it.

“What do you mean?” the hobbit repeated, not really able to comprehend what the lad was saying.

“Just wanted you to know now.” Fili pulled up to the door of the shack. Hand on the door ready to push it open. “I didn’t want you to be surprised.”

Without waiting for her to answer, he pushed the door open, shame and fear the greater emotions boiling inside of him, on the outside he was calm and cold. There were three others inside, drinking the home-brew, and the contact sitting in the same seat as last night.

Fili marched right up to the man, ignoring cat calls directed at either him or Bilbo, and dug a knife in between two of the man’s fingers which was splayed on the table. The man didn’t jump, or shift in the slightest, of course he would be used to being approached with violence. Fili quickly thought of another approach to getting information from this man without killing him.

“The little Feet. Who has the job.” The contact wouldn’t give up names, or however many were even contracted out, but Fili had to start somewhere. “Watcher families are protected in Ered Luin, there are claims which won’t be touched… is it not the same here?”

“Ye won’ be gettin’ any special treatment here, dwarf. Those lads who took the job were warned against a watcher family in town.” The lecherous man took a swig from his leather tankard and smiled at the odd couple. “Idn’t my fault they didn’t know your children weren’t in YOUR home.” 

Bilbo pulled her sword out and slid it easily to under the man’s chin, still he didn’t move. Fili worried a little at how easy it was getting for the hobbit to make threats to throats like that. Yesterday wasn’t the first time he’s found her blade at his neck, if even it was in their training. 

“Still, they knew. Didn’t they. Which were my family.” Fili pressed, allowing Bilbo to shift her stance and was proud that her sword didn’t waver.

“Told ‘em which elf children they were, yea.” With his knife hand Fili backhanded the man’s face, his nose cutting into his hand and blood spurted from the man’s nose. The motion was so quick that Fili barely realized that he was the one to punch the man. His withered head snapped back against the wood wall and whipped back up to settle skin against Bilbo’s blade. 

“Which direction could they possibly take, in order to be least suspected by pursuing fathers and mothers?” Fili asked, with a thinly veiled threat behind his velvet voice. Another blade twirled in the air, his fingers dancing with the quicksilver flash of his well sharpened dagger. 

“They,” The man wheezed, “could have taken the road north and around to Bree, rather than the main road.” 

Satisfied with the answer if not the man who gave it he motioned Bilbo to follow him again and out the door. Multiple plans for getting back their children after tracking the crew began filling up Fili’s head. He was worried, that with the lack of moonlight, that his paltry tracking skills won’t be good enough to find them. He worried that his son and cousin were being mistreated, Nira would be as fussy as usual and it always took her mother’s soothing to calm her down. Same could be said with his jumpy son. The moment the lad would realize he’s not around his papa, Fili shuddered at his fear and pushed it to the farthest recess’ of his mind. He couldn’t think about it now. He had to think up of how he would get them back, not at how helpless they are at the moment, because he could realistically solve only one of those problems.

“It was you.” Bilbo’s comment snapped Fili out of his planning, they kept moving down streets after getting the information from the contact. “You were the one who killed those men. You were the one they attacked weren’t you.” 

“I was looking for it. As I’ve said, I have a certain skill set, which used to bring in a lot of money for us after father died. My employment was the only way I could keep a growing brother alive especially after that hard winter.” The winter his brother came down with a cold and ended up too sick to even wake up. It was father’s knowledge of herbs that saved Fili in his youth. But without their father, he couldn’t save his ailing brother. 

Fili had set out to look for marks, contracted with the seedier parts of town to pull in any sort of favors to be able to afford the herbs they needed. His mother never knew what he did, neither, for that matter, did his brother. Their mother had railed at Fili when he did come home, beaten, broken bones and bruised body with a healer, apothecary, a bag of needed herbs, and extra coin he had earned. He got an earful that day, even though he couldn’t hear out of one ear. But she hadn’t known how he got the coin, though she tried to get it out of him, his brother thought himself invincible after being healed, and Fili suffered from broken ribs and a leg, loss of blood, and partial hearing loss in that one ear. 

It had all been done for his brother. All for him. Always for him.

“So you killed those men, after they attacked you, and now they, whoever they are, stole our children as a vendetta against you because of what you did. How in Yavanna’s green garden did you think that you could get away with double murder! If your society is as dangerous as everyone claims they are then how could you THINK our children were safe, were you hoping that they would just leave you alone? Fili, lad, what kind of skills do you have to even be employed by crooks. No, don’t answer that, I have a feeling I won’t like it. How did you even get messed up into this all? Theiving around, slitting throats, and taking gold for it. **HOW DID YOU** —“

Fili’s hand went up to Bilbo’s mouth, her mumbles cut short in spite of her tirade. Mahal, Fili thought, no wonder The King couldn’t ever get a word in edgewise.

“Yes, I killed those men. As I’ve said, I’m good at what I do, so I can’t be caught (“Or haven’t been yet.” Bilbo grumbled). Watcher families are protected against others, like a claim to land they shouldn’t have been touched. I was taught swords by Dwalin, when I could finally heft one, and his husband, Nori, was a crook and introduced me to dishonest-honest work. His guild have rules even though they’re watchers. Now, please aunt,” Fili used the honorific when he thought he could get away with it. “I have to track their trail, and tracking is very difficult for me at the best of times, so please,” 

“Why not just follow those wagon trails?” completely calm now Bilbo asked, as she pointed behind Fili. “If they’re employed like you, wouldn’t they have more children and need a larger transport than riding off on horses into the night like some terrible story?”

Fili turned around and spotted the deep, fresh, wagon wheel marks in the soft dirt. It hadn’t rained recently so the trail lifted as it got deeper into the woods. The dwarf turned around and excitedly kissed Bilbo on the lips, hands holding her head still. His dimple’s deepened and eyes glowed with hope. 

It was then that Bilbo realized that Fili was just as worried about his son as she was for her daughter. That he wasn’t some ruthless killer that everyone warned about. Fili was, has been, is the best papa she’d ever seen. He was engaging with people, even though they weren’t always nice to him. He had held her in the night when she was too depressed to even hold her daughter, who was the spitting image of her father; he had been there even before they were banished, before they had begun to get to know each other through their shared pain. Inside, Fili wasn’t any more a senseless murderer than she was. He could kill, she’d always known that, for as long as she’s known him. But he didn’t go around with his knife cutting anyone in sight. 

“You’re right, Bilbo.” Fili turned and fixed his vest around him and marched on ahead. Offhandedly he added: “Females do look at things differently than males.” 

It was an old argument, one that Bilbo wasn’t quite aware of. So, of course, she got offended. The rock that clipped his ear, almost non-threateningly, startled him to stopping. Bilbo smiled slightly and marched passed him. 

Though the teasing was light-hearted, their urgency to get to their children hadn’t lessened. 

Fili and Bilbo tracked the wagon deeper into the night, following the trails at switchbacks and guessing at direction over rock. But eventually they were able to find the wagon loaded with children. Bilbo was more surprised that the children were quiet, even theirs, as the wagon rode over rocks. There were two Men on the driver’s bench, and three riding on horses alongside it. In the wagon there were about ten children, that Fili could see, and their own two children nestled somewhere in there. 

The mules pulling the wagon attempted to pull it over some more rocks when there was a wood whining creak and then one of the wheels shattered. Thank Mahal for miracles. Fili offered up as a prayer. 

“Dammit,” Fili could hear one of the men in the seat say. Some of the children had screamed in fright, waking three infants. Fili knew that wail. His son was definitely there. A cold twisting hand gripped at his insides, weakening his knees and bringing a lump into his throat. All in the same breath he was relieved, worried, frightened, angry, vengeful, and nothing like a calm headed prince. He was trying to decide if he was the avenging papa, or the angry killer when Bilbo tapped him on the shoulder. 

He noticed the children being taken out of the wagon so the men could work of fixing the wheel.

“Hurry it up. I don’t want that exile to catch up to us.” One of the men said. 

Fili was surprised to hear that from the men. He wasn’t aware of anyone who knew his lineage, however disclaimed as it might be. They seemed to know who he was, but they weren’t quite aware of what he was capable of. From this distance, Fili and Bilbo could see that the children huddled with each other, dwarf, hobbit, and children of men. They were close enough to recognize his son’s gray-blue cotton blanket being cradled by one of Maren’s children and Nira by another. 

The men went about pulling children from the cart, and cursing at their misbegotten luck. The wheel was definitely irreparable, so they would have to move along on foot. But the problem with such a quick job was that there were no shoes packed for the children (though a good kidnapper would have thought to take them). Most of them were barefoot when they had been taken from their beds. Other’s looked like they were ripped right out of the street when their mother’s weren’t looking. Fili swore to himself, when his son gets older, that he would never let his boy out of his sight, ever. 

“I ain’t trekkin’ no child through this rough. They won’t walk long before they start ter cry.” One of the men, on a horse, complained. The other two drivers were looking at the shattered wheel, trying to see if there was any saving it. One of the riders was at the back of the cart, watching the drivers, with the other two horsemen guarded the children from their steeds. Fili had to mark them carefully. 

Without the luxury of getting to know his mark, his habits, his strong hand, the extent of his training, there was no telling who wouldn’t be averse to hurting the children and who would flee at the first sign of trouble. The latter wouldn’t be counted on as a grace, these men seemed like they’ve worked together before, as they’ve taken up stations with no breath of word. They could kill, easily, there were muscles under tunics that wove that story. Though kidnapping may not have been their token’s mark, they had taken the job nevertheless. Just as Fili was considering taking the very same job that got his son taken.

“Bilbo,” Fili whispered quietly, “I need you to sneak into the group of children, and you’re small enough to hide. Once I start attacking I need someone to guide the children away from the fight. Keep them quiet, don’t draw attention.”

“What are you going to do? Attack them by yourself? There’s two on horseback, one with a spear.” Bilbo pointed at said man, he seemed confident, capable of handling the weapon. “He’ll gore you without a seconds thought.”

In the night, with no moon, Fili smiled, his teeth showing sharp. He knew the possibilities of him getting a good throw at him. If anything, Fili had the advantage against the riders. They were high up on their mounts and horses were easily startled, so they wouldn’t be getting off. The other three on the ground would be harder. Most watchers knew how to throw a knife, so dodging those men would be the hardest. Hand to hand Fili was at a disadvantage because of his height. Against the horsemen he had the superior throw, this he already knew. 

“I’ll take the drivers first; the other horseman won’t see me till the drivers are already dead. As soon as the horsemen charge, take the children into the forest, it’s a little way and I need you to be quick and quiet.” Fili looked at Bilbo again; with the little light afforded by starlight she seemed capable. 

“You as the diversion, then.” Bilbo stated. She shifted in her crouch; they were behind a crag of rocks. “Fine, I can do this.”

“Of course you can. You crept in on a dragon, whispered passed elves, danced around spiders, and surprised on orcs…” Fili drew his best throwing knives, “of course you can do this.”

They split up. Fili couldn’t afford to track Bilbo’s movements through the scrub brush he secreted behind, and his hobbit aunt was the most secretive with her prowess. Fili knew he could depend on her; she had the luck and the skill to pull it off. He was more concerned with his own luck and skill. 

He was out of practice, muscles weakened for fighting, he wasn’t as nimble and flexible as he was before his son, but becoming a papa had given him a different kind of strength. 

_Amad had only been a few months pregnant since Fili was able to get outside. It was his first time attempting the stairs. Already his legs were stronger than they had ever been._

His legs bent like water over rock, smooth. He controlled the strength he had in them with near perfection with his knees set apart wide to balance his crouched body. 

_He gripped the railing his Adad had put up last week. Adad had feared when Fili would be attempting the stairs and set up the railings for added balance. Fili used it now, needing to be comfortable with his strengthening body before he could train for the grace of a prince._

Fluidly, Fili poured himself over rocks and whispered through the brush. He was pure stealth. His concentration at such a level he could put away the fear of losing his son. His grace lent him his prowess, his ability to become the predator. 

_His mother watched from the kitchen, stirring a pot of dyed fabric (his new tunic). Fili breathed in the fresh air, already used to the stink, the stone, the cavern breeze, and took another step outside. He crept closer to the edge of the porch._

He crept closer to the edge of the brush clearing and crouched low, silent, stalking and ready to strike. If they could, his eyes would be glowing green in the reflecting starlight. He gripped his two daggers, weighted perfectly, without guard and flourish of a decorative hilt, they were plain but deadly for the lack of aesthetic design.

_He took a step down, controlling his movement’s not wanting to make a misstep and fall. He hated it when he fell. His limbs were still weak enough to shake with the effort of control, his lungs waiting to spasm and choke him. But with a newly found confidence he took that second step, then the other, and he tripped._

A rock rolled against stone just as he released the daggers. They sung through the air with the death lullaby and hit their mark. He’d trained forever and a lifetime to get that tumble, the one where the blade flipped just right to settle between ribs and dig at soft tissue and organs for a swifter death. 

_Fili fell against the empty rain barrels, where they thudded against his frail body and made a terrible crash. He thought that the dust would kill him before the battery of barrels. And distantly he heard the quick thumping of boots crossing their small hut of a house. In an instant, it seemed, his mother was already by his side._

The men dropped, dead in an instant. The other rider, at the back of the wagon, noticed the men fall before he heard the rock and followed the sound to the dwarf watcher. Blond mane of hair flying in the air, vest tied tight around his body, Fili pulled out more blades with well-practiced fluidity. This is what he’d trained for; this is what he was best at. This game of chance, of survival, of murder, he could never take joy in the acts, consequences, the fallout, the families who mourn behind the death. But he did take joy in knowing another criminal had been put to death.

And tonight would be no different. 

Blades clashed together, sword against dwarven steel, the weapon didn’t make the man superior, it was the skill. And currently, Fili had an up on the man before him. The sword came down, a silvery arch cutting through the darkness, could have been missed if he hadn’t trained for this, but almost had nevertheless. He isn’t a legend, not like Mahal and the rest of the Illuvatar. Didn’t have magic’s and powers beyond the reckoning, so Fili had to mostly anticipate where the man would strike next. He had to move quickly out of the way when the sword came too close to piercing his chest. 

A lunge, thrust, parry, defend, defend. Fili tried pushing the man back when he thought he had the opportunity. The cart was against his back now, cutting into his already bruised ribs, breath still in control but coming quicker. Fili rolled when he heard the whistle of a weapon swinging down for him, attempting to hack into his shoulder, instead it was imbedded into the wooden cart. He had his chance, if he was quick enough (he could hear the horses making their quick approach, Bilbo had to be with the children by now, securing their safety) he could make a jab between the man’s armor. 

“You bloody exhile!” the rider in front of him yelled, abandoning his sword, but not quickly enough. The man turned just in time for Fili to drive his sword up and into his belly. The stink of bile, blood and worse filled the air as he withdrew his blade. He left the man to die as miserably as he pleased then he had two other riders to deal with.

Besides the one unfulfilled promise by the man he just slew, the others were quiet, professionally so. They didn’t allow even an explicative to pass their lips, their cries of anguish at a fallen comrade, if he was as precious enough for tears or mourning. The one man with the spear readied his throw, gloved and gauntleted hand gripping the staff just right for a short and powerful throw. The other rider had his sword drawn as well, and Fili didn’t like these odds. 

He wasn’t sure he could dodge quickly enough to evade the spear, the sword, or horse hooves before meeting his end. 

Cold decisions burrowed into his mind, calming him and generating enough confidence to do what needed to be done to save his family. Take an injury in the least, accept death when it comes. 

“Ah!” a quick exclamation in the dark followed a crack. The spear-rider fell from his horse and rolled over Fili and the other rider was making his way towards him, the fallen man’s horse still on course. Fili cursed, his legs were pinned under the dead weight that equaled at least two dwarven weights, and Fili hadn’t the strength or energy to escape before the other man made it to him. Luckily enough, Bilbo was a very excellent throw. Another rock hit the other man and he too tumbled to the ground, though he had the bad fortune to get his foot tangled up in the stirrups.

Fili wouldn’t mourn any of them. 

“Fili!” Bilbo came out and into the clearing, crying children following her. “Fili, my lad, are you alright?”

“Yes.” He grunted out. The weight on his legs crushed his ankles uncomfortably, but it was only a relief to know that nothing was broken. Bilbo appeared at his side, grabbing onto the belt around the man’s hips and pulled him off of Fili. Even if it were only his legs he felt he could breathe better because of the release of the body. “Thank you.”

Children huddled around, crying, holding each other and themselves, crowding the fallen dwarf and hobbit as if refugee’ gathering around a fire. There were three infants, one toddler and the other five children didn’t even come to Bilbo’s chest. All of them had been so young. And Fili here and now promises never to accept a Feet job in his future. Ever. 

“Mister Dwarf! Thank you!” an echo of appreciation coughed out between sobs and Fili felt his chest constrict with parental concern.

“Where are you all from?” Fili accepted his son from Maren’s daughter and gazed at each of them. Some were from the Shire, hobbit, dwarf and man included, and others from Annuminas, and one taken on the road, made an orphan. “We’ll make sure you all get back home safely, we live in Annuminas so we will go there first. Then, sort the rest of you out later.”

“Now,” Bilbo took the reigns now that her child was quietened. Fili’s own kept crying swinging his little fists in the air as if to curse his own father for leaving him alone. Fili’s heart broke at that. “Who’s cold and who needs shoes? Between Fili and I we should able to help, if only a little.”

Through the same night and on to morning, the children and two carriers trekked back to Annuminas. Some of the children still cried, but that was to be expected, they were exhausted, still scared, weary from travel and trauma, and on top of it all, they were hungry. Bilbo was able to pass out berries she found along the road as well as leaves they could suck on and abate the hunger. 

Fili was never so happy to have such a companion with him. Bilbo was the fairest person he’d known, besides his _nadadith_ , nay, even fairer. She was kind, gentle, loving, and understanding; she was the perfect mother for the fussy Nira. Bilbo was also the very best friend he had ever had. She told him what he needed to hear, and not what he wanted, she told him when he was being a brat, a simpleton, or even being a little too proud. And Fili appreciated everything that she gave to him. 

The children from Annuminas were brought back to their families (“Thank you Fili. Thank you Bilbo. Thank you, thank you, _thankyouthankyouthankyou._ ” Maren sobbed at the return of her two children). And Bilbo invited the children from the Shire back to their loft, including the orphan, for a hot bowl of cereal and a cool glass of milk. 

The children ate, the two parents reunited with their children again and things were right again. And with stomachs full, Fili dragged out the extra blankets from his trunk and settled all the children in Bilbo and the children’s bed as she prepped their own chairs in the sitting room. And, if only for a moment, everything was perfect. Fili gazed over his sleeping son – who was nestled protectively against his chest – at Bilbo, who had fallen asleep nursing Nirin after Fili’s son. The babe lass grumbled at the lack of interaction and Fili snorted. “Serves you right you little devil.” 

_Bang, bang, bang, bang._

Went the door. 

“Now what?” Fili regretfully stood up, propping pillows against his son on the chair so he wouldn’t roll off, and went to open the door. It was Maren.

“Fili. Oh thank goodness.” Maren barged in, looking haggard, pale, and red-eyed. “They didn’t make it to you yet. You have to leave. Now. The magistrate is accusing you of being a murderer. Says you got hold of those poor boys the other night. But, Oh! Blast it all, I don’t care. Get your things. Bilbo and you. You have to-“

Fili was off, gathering clothes quicker than anything. He’d been used to this drill. When traveling with his mother’s brother he had gotten used to persecutions and leaving at a moment’s notice, sometimes leaving without being able to get all his things. Which is why he always padded himself up with knives for bear. 

“Never a moment’s rest with you Durin’s” Bilbo commented at his shoulder, trying to get at some of her small clothes.

“DON’T.” Fili shouted at her. “Don’t you say that name to me. You know I can’t,”

Fili almost broke down, his shout waking the children in the bed too startled to begin crying. Bilbo went over to sooth the children while Fili grabbed their things. He hadn’t thought about it in a while, less than a day’s time since the last he thought about his banishment, about his betrayal, about the loss of everything he’d ever loved. And it was almost crippling. Damning in every breath he took. Was there anything he could do without it crumbling away? Without it being destroyed?

“Fili,” It was Maren again, “I’ve fed him as much as I can, poor lad is starved. Yak’s milk should help, hardy enough for your folk. I’ve got these children. Go.”

Without even a goodbye, the two parents and their children left the loft above the smith’s. Running ahead of an impending mob, who had already begun burning a certain shack against the cliff, to a stable where there would be a horse. 

Without a look back, or a tear shed, Fili left another home, no, another house behind him. For that’s all these places were, four walls, a roof, an adequate kitchen if any at all. Because they weren’t his home, his home lay somewhere, buried in the broken heart of his beloved who has learned to love another. His home was in the east, possibly hating him for his betrayal, possibly hating a son he will hopefully never have to see (if it was his son). His home had a name.

And it was a name he could never speak again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* Comments *runs away*
> 
> Comments proved to be the fuel I need... ehem.


	7. And Sing Out- "No Surrender!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili and Bilbo find themselves in the blizzarding north where they encounter the boorish red-headed dwarf and his family.

**A year and a half later**

 

Inside the buildings foyer, the heavy wood door swung shut with a resounding slam. Fili didn't bother with the locks as this wasn't his home to secure, but the need was there, considering the streak of bad luck they've had the past three years. With the tipping point starting in Annùminas with the kidnapping, it de-escalated to threats of violence from other dwarves passing through Bree recognized Fili, theft of food and money (wherein Fili was forced to take a few _other_ jobs besides his customary smithing), outright fighting (attacking both Bilbo and Fili), leading up to Bilbo needing more protective training to which she took to with flourish (if only to protect her family). And that's the reason where the family found themselves at today. Fleeing north, where there was the closest community of dwarves Fili knew of that most likely wouldn't attack him on sight (provided if/when they got around the orcs and goblins).

 

“Hullo!” Fíli called out, Bilbo's hand on her freezing sword pulling it out slightly as she gave it a cursory glance and didn't see it glowing. “Hullo! We just came in. We aren't here to rob.”

 

“Yes, Fíli, panic them why don't you.” Bilbo said at his shoulder a little more than worried. The cold from outside made her shiver, hood up and cloak tightly secured around her she made sure no wayward flakes of snow made it inside her coats. They hadn't removed their packs or clothing, but they made their way further in the long hall of the foyer, cautious.

 

“It's only good manners, Bilbo.” Fíli answered back. Their arms wrapped around their chests to protect more than their own bodies.

 

Suddenly, a child came around the corner, he had thick brown tunics on, thick wool pants, and comfy fur boots, but what stood out most about the child wasn't his steel gray eyes, or his triangular tattoos on his cheeks, but his blood-red hair, it looked like ropes, with a few braids weaved through it. Gold and ivory beads threaded through.

 

“Hello.” Fíli spoke softly not wanting to startle the small child. “We just came in from the blizzard, we're sorry to intrude. My name is Fíli, and this is Bilbo... see we're-”

 

“Och! Tha lad can't heer!” A voice, rumbled throughout the house with the thickest accent Fíli had ever heard. The blond dwarf shivered as it reminded him of the sound a bear would make before taking a bluff charge. He didn't like being cornered by a bear. “Def since birth. The fire's just lit why don' you-”

 

And he was as big as a bear to boot.

 

The dwarf stood against the post of the foyer, hand protectively on the wee one's head, his hair just as red as the boy's. Red eyelashes, red brows, short red beard and mustache. His hair was all in ropes, multiple gold beads throughout and ivory hoops at some of the ends. They were swept back and out of the dwarrows' face where Fíli realized that his skin was bronze and his eyes, dear Mahal his eyes were gold! They glowed with all the depths of the shinning metal for all they were worth, enticing Fíli to stroke them in reverence. He was built like a mountain, no, like a bear, hulking shoulders, thick waist and arms (though not too large), his meaty thighs though, Fíli salivated at that bulk. What stone was this dwarf made of?

 

“Oi, did the snow freeze yer brain, or sumtin?” The red-dwarf spoke, chuckle at the   
edges of his speech. “Or did ye turn back into stone, pretty dwarf?”

 

Pretty, eh? Perhaps it was time to introduce himself before the red-haired, thick   
headed, imbecile of a dwarf got any thoughts about him where Fíli's vanity was concerned. He wasn't pretty at all. And Fíli was willing to teach with fist on how dwarfish he was. That was, until his child started crying.

 

“Is that a CHILD I hear crying, Erlen? Or did Erskin kick you in the stones again?” a female's voice cackled above the fire and to the left of the foyer. Erlen, apparently the elder of the two red-head dwarrows pointed down the hall and the dwarf child ran in that direction.

 

“We got company!” the bear of a dwarf, Erlen, spoke, something distasteful in his mouth.

 

Erlen indicated the pegs to their left for their cloaks, Fíli's child was squirming too much to keep within his tunic for much longer. Bilbo stopped in her uncloaking and unpacking to accept Fíli's light-haired babe.

 

“Two breeders with children.” Erlen turned his back to the room he came out of when Fíli tackled him.

 

This barbarian was rude enough to suggest that Fíli had been simple minded (and with the surprise of a dwarf with so much bulk and blood-red hair, who wouldn't be open to ogle?), or to say that he was pretty and undwarf-like, but to call Bilbo something close to a whore was the final straw to the exiled prince.

 

And he wasn't unused to street tussles in someone else's name.

 

He knew enough about etiquette and decorum to know to never attack his host, but the rude dwarf was asking for it. His own child secure in Bilbo’s arms, where, no doubt, Nira would begin hassling his son, Fili felt he could go all out. The call to decorum rang loud in his ears, but pride and sense of protection rang louder.

 

Fili tackled the great brute, they both fell to the floor where the beast rolled. Fili couldn’t allow himself to be pinned, he couldn’t, the dwarrows' bulk would be too much for him to control, so he squirmed out of the tight hold that the red-head had on his tunic, tearing fabric and collar Fili tried getting up onto his feet. Quick as lightning, the red-head got up too. And what Fili saw, froze him again. The dwarf’s eyes were pin-point focused, red lashes not even a distraction, except maybe to Fili.

 

Hands in grapple position Fili prepared for the onslaught that the other dwarf was surely to release on him. Before they could even begin again, Fili thought he should add in his own taunts. Nori’s barbed curses and quick-replies on the tip of his tongue, but he heard his child screaming again, wanting his papa, and Bilbo standing, surely, somewhere at the foyer ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

 

“We aren’t _breeders_. Don’t _EVER_ call Bilbo that again.” Head slightly bowed, ropes of hair dancing across his shoulders as he cocked his head, the red-head squinted as if to physically focus again. “She isn’t some whore you can—“

 

“Whore?” the long ‘o’ made the word sound like 'huur' in Fili’s opinion, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. Behind the hulking beast of a dwarf there was a tall slender female, her red hair dark as wine, her braids and ropes tied elegantly into a bun behind her head where there were flour marks all over her front, her hands up to her elbows covered in dripping dough. “What makes you think-“

 

Fili wasn’t sure who made the sound, but it was an embarrassing high pitch hiccup. Bilbo, the dwarf, or he had made it, and the woman standing behind the tall dwarf had boxed his ears with sticky hands. The clapping sound would have incapacitated the other dwarf long enough for Fili to grab his things and run if he had to.

 

“NOW WHAT’S ALL THIS FUSS OUT HERE! Erlen, you know better than to go running your mouth like some inconsiderate dwarfling. Imagine if your brother heard you making such a rucus because of your idiocy.” She folded her arms, Erlen on the ground holding his ears. “They are obviously Southerners, poor things don’t know an insult unless it’s deposited a disposition and approved thrice by a council and introduces you to its family. Those poor, poor buggers (this was said more softer). Calling them breeders is the equivelant to _hatha’n_ so wash your mouth out and help them to a room.”

 

She kept railing on the larger dwarf as if he were just a dwarfling. Fili was flabbergasted by the Northerners. Here she was, a mother obviously, boxing the ears of a huge dwarf, and he cowing to her (good son there) and she’s yelling at him about being inconsiderate about the integrity of the youngest dwarfling (who couldn't hear). This has got to be the strangest thing that Fili’s ever witnessed. They were nothing to the barbaric Northern dwarves he'd ever heard of, they were just like any other dwarf, albeit rude and rambunctious.

 

Fili didn't know what to do with himself. He half expected for the woman, Erlen's mother assumedly, to begin railing on him for being improper guests and what not. But she didn't. She turned around from where she handed off Bilbo and his packs off to her eldest son and gave Bilbo and the babes a warm smile.

 

"Well lookit you lot. As frozen as Narùd's withered tits. Och, come on in and get yer toes warm by the fire." She placed a hand on Bilbo's shoulder to guide her further in. "Now, lad, is this yer son? As fair as I've ever seen and beautiful teh boot. Look at his regal nose, and his white hair, oh! He's the most beautiful- OH! There's another one. Och lass, your child has the darkest hair-"

 

And she went on like that, dough hands forgotten she fussed herself around Fili and Bilbo while they got themselves warm by the fire in the kitchen. Erska, introduced herself and had turned to her youngest, signing something in part Ingleshmek and part something else. The boy never left her sight before that but he turned hurriedly only to bump into Erlen, smile and demand to be lifted up, which Erlen conceded to. 

 

Erlen, Fili's blood boiled at this dwarf. He had the gall to call he and Bilbo something akin to whores and had the nerve to defend himself after it. Fili didn't think he could ever forgive that slight. He could stand slander made towards him, but if it were ever made toward his family, Mahal help them.

The large red-headed dwarf had come in from the back of the kitchen where the other six had been. The adults, and the young one and Nira, were enjoying dinner, Fili's lad, however, was crying up a storm.

"Aww, the poor lad." Erska, the kindly hostess - this wasn't her home, it was a sort of hostel where the cottage was open to travelers and kept by the travelers which Erska's family regularly maintained - her braids and ropes still tied up and her hands sans dough cooed at Fili's crying son. Erlen took a seat at the furthest end of the table with the last of the soup, dried herbs brushing his head in the low hanging beams. "Has Bilbo been the only one to feed him? You look exhausted too, dear."

 

"Well, both children have to be fed. We don't have anymore yak milk." Bilbo rocked her child, Nirin trying to enjoy as much food as possible before switching places with her cousin. Erskin came back to the table with some corn muffins as dessert, there was a large pot of honey settled into the table in the center, as if the whole table had been designed around it. 

 

"Aw." Erska stage whimpered. She buttered a muffin and handed it off to Erskin to honey. "Yak milk though? I don't follow."

 

"Yak milk is the closest thing that he can eat. Ever since leaving Bree, we hadn't been able to feed him with it." FIli supplied, taking his finger to his son to help assuage him in any way but the child only screamed louder at the jest. Fili began getting upset that he couldn't do anything right now to help, at twenty-three months the children were still infants (as compared to human's) in need of mother's milk. Fili's lad kept crying louder and louder and struggled out of his wrappings.

 

There was a clattering at the far end of the table and Erlen excused himself. Fili and Bilbo glared in unison at the disruption thinking that the red-head was getting irritated with Fili's son. Erska only smiled. The beast hunkered behind his mother and out the back of the kitchen into tunnels currently unknown. 

 

"So!" Erska clapped her hands together as if she had a sudden thought, "You are from the south, obviously, and you dear, are no dwarf. Hobbit?"

 

"I'm surprised you know a Hobbit from a halfling. Even her father didn't know the difference." Bilbo tried to laugh but it came out as a half sob caught in her throat. She kept bouncing Nirin as she fed, Fili wrestled with his son and Erska sat serenely. Ah, yes, and Erskin - it's embarrassingly easy to forget about the lad, he was so quiet - sat chewing on his honeyed cake. 

 

"Are you expecting?" Fili asked all of a sudden to Erska. She looked at the blond, confusion written plainly on her face. Her tattoos, on her neck jumping and flowing with the tendons. Though her face was a picture of calm and curiosity, Fili could tell that he'd said something wrong. "I mean, you've made honey cakes. I just,"

 

"We do things differently, I guess." Erska let loose a long-suffering sigh. She shifted in her seat and focused solely on Fili. "No. I'm not expecting. These honey cakes are good for chasing away the cold. So I've made them for you and Bilbo." 

 

Erskin pulled on his mother's sleeve to get her attention and signed quickly for a question Fili could only partly translate. 

 

"They thought I was pregnant, dear." She signed back and spoke too. "That's why they weren't eating the cakes. Fili thought they were celebratory cake for family."

 

Erskin signed back, to which Erska didn't bother interpreting, Fili blushed at the implications the lad had made. He was not some namby-pamby-

 

"So, your daughters name is," Erska led on for Bilbo. 

 

"Nirin, though Fili has gotten to call her Nira." Bilbo lifted Nira from her and the child cried and looked at Fili, Bilbo looked absolutely horrified "I'm sorry Fili, but I don't think I have that much milk left. Nirin isn't getting much to begin with." 

 

Fili's heart sunk and bouldered deep into his gut. There was something about being a parent, about how you believe that your child expects the world thrice over to be made perfect for them. That there are these unrealistic expectations of being a parent, the stress of protecting and providing for your child that was both joy and extreme worry. And Fili's guit hit instantly and he couldn't believe that he had failed so much as a parent that he couldn't even feed his son. He panicked, he couldn't feed his child, he wished, now, that he was a dwarrowdam so that he could feed his son like any other woman. He was a failure. And there was no way to fix that. Fili felt like he was going to begin crying again. Funny, how before his son he hadn't cried too much, and now, with every pained scream his son was making, he wanted too pour out his heart if it would make the lad feel better. 

 

Just then, with the most impeccable timing, Erlen came stomping back in. He had, in his hands, a flagon with some sort of soft leather contraption on the opening. He was just tying off a bit of sinew before he placed it on the table in front of Fili without a word or eye contact. The blond scowled at the thing, child crying in his arms in hunger. 

 

"What is that?" Fili asked, a little put off. 

 

"I believe that's yak's milk." Erska cleared off her plate and kept Erskin from taking another cake. 

 

"Yak," Fili looked down towards Erlen, "you have yaks?" 

 

"Oh plenty, though, I think you should hurry and feed your son. He looks awfully hungry, lad." Erska answered.

 

Fili gave the flagon another look before his son began wailing, smelling the yak's milk nearby, before quickly grabbing the thing and lifting it to his lad's lips. It broke his heart how quickly he took to the strange contraption and sucked at it with all his might. He didn't pay any attention to his pride shuddering at his own sob. To finally feed his son, who was obviously starving, was a great relief, pang of heart, blow to the stomach, and knock on his parenting abilities. He can't believe he had let it get that far even if he couldn't prevent the lack of food, he felt he should have been able to do something. 

 

It was a foreign thing to him, feeling as helpless as that, when someone is suffering and he couldn't help. When his father died, he'd gotten a job; when his brother was sick, he got a different job; when _nadadith's_ fingers bled, he bandaged them; always, he'd been able to do something about someone else's suffering. But this, wandering through the icy wilderness without proper food for his son was incomparably painful. 

 

Looking down at his now blushing son, filling his tiny tummy with warm, fresh yak's milk, he still felt incompetent as a parent, but he also felt relief. He cried some more when Bilbo came by to rest a hand on his shoulder. Then he laughed when his cousin laughed at him. "Little devil."

 

"Fili," Erska said in whispered reverence, "Bilbo, Nirin and,"

 

Fili felt another sob wanting to escape. He still hadn't named his lad. He couldn't bring himself to name him. Couldn't find any name that befitted him, or one that he could grow into, live up to. Every name he had tried to come up with had fallen short. He wanted to give his lad a name befitting the line of- But he couldn't. He also wanted something to remember his _nadadith_ with, but that would have been too painful to be calling a name he couldn't say. 

 

"He has no name." Fili dropped his head to his son, bright blue eyes staring back up at him, an offer of thanks in a single hiccup. "I couldn't name him. I don't-"

 

"You mean, he's this old and he doesn't...."

 

"No." 

 

"Kuzud's hairy-ass, that's awful. You don't-"

 

"I couldn't name him after a brother I can't say a name to, and I couldn't name him after a creature I know nothing about." Fili yelled at Erska in frustration. A spoon clattered at the far end of the table again. Erlen had risen from the table, fists clutched. "Don't you start in, you brute."

 

"Erlen." Was the simple command, and he obeyed, hesitantly. The hulking beast sat down slowly, keeping his eye and ear on Fili. "You mean to say, then, that you don't know who the father is?"

 

Fili's silence was answer enough. He felt shame all over again. It seems to be his standby emotion lately. Shame, pride, anger, so much anger, self-loathing, longing... so many emotions that he couldn't name or even want to look into too deeply. 

 

"I'm sorry if I seem blunt to you Fili, but-"

 

"I know he needs a name. But I could't ever bring myself to name him. I just don't have his name. Maybe his father does, I don't know." Fili just couldn't hear the name of his son, it was another terrible feeling to have. Not able to hear something as precious as his own son's name. 

 

"I know I might be assuming here, and forgive me for overstepping boundaries I have no right even having, but. Would you mind if I name him?" Fili snapped his head up and the small hand on his shoulder clenched into his thick, borrowed tunic, the spoon dropped again. "It's just, up here in the north, we are a matriarchal family. Erska, Erlen, Erskin... these are names my grandmother gave me. As I'm sure your lad's father's parents, be he dwarf, would give him. That much tradition we share I know. But, with a family you can't say and another mate you don't know about, I wondered- well you see- I have a name. And I don't wanta be presumin' but,"

 

"You hear his name?" Fili assumed he looked flabbergasted. "All the way up here?"

 

"Aye lad I hear a name. It's a strange one to be sure. It sounds beautiful, strange, strong yet forgiving. I'm sure he's known it since birth, the lad's sumtin else he is." Erska stretched across the table as if she would take Fili's hands in hers, but he was too busy feeding his son. 

 

"Well, let's hear it! I've waited so long to hear it!" Fili was almost desperate. 

 

"Eruil." 

 

_Eruil_ , Fili tasted the name on his tongue. It was his son's name. He couldn't deny it. It was perfect, it was his, it was right. _Eruil_.

 

"E-ru-" Bilbo sounded out the syllables and gasped, as if she were just figuring out some great puzzle. He didn't have to look over his shoulder to know what she was doing. Comparing looks. Measuring up what she knew about his family, nose: sure, he had a sharp nose like _nadadith_ , but he was already family. Hair: light, lighter than even Fili's, the color had kept. Eyes: Bright blue, a brightness unusual in a dwarf. Downy chin or cheeks: None. His hands were slender, his limbs long, his hair soft and manageable, when brushed properly, his skin was fair and milky smooth. Of course he would be, "Thranduil. He's Thranduil's son."

 

Fili let the flagon roll to the ground, it was empty, he wouldn't deny his son even the last drop of the milk, and pulled his son up and into his chest, clutching to him as if he would be ripped from him. Fili shed hot tears, covering his son in a sorrowful blessing. 

 

"I tried. For so long. I've tried to pretend it was _his_ and not- I didn't want to see Thranduil, I wanted to see him. I wanted- Ahhugh. NO! No. no." It was as if he were banished all over again. Memories drifted away like smoke from a pipe, wispy, curling, dissipating into the air, he no longer carried traits of his family. Now, with the admission, he looked like the elf king. And now that he new, he couldn't not see that he was Thranduil's son. He could no longer see his brother. "I just want him back. I want him back. I just want him back."

 

The night had ended on a sad note. Eruil had been fed, burped, and slept soundly before Fili had even finished his cold soup. Bilbo had been shown her rooms and had fallen into an exhausted sleep next to her daughter. Fili held on to his son, Eruil, Eruil, rocking him even while the little bugger slept. He had, expectedly enough, escaped his swathing, little chubby fists curled against his head, wavy hair carefully brushed back, starlight eyes rested behind closed lids. 

 

Fili thought that he wouldn't have to feel this type of sorrow ever again, but here he was. His poor heart thudding in his chest in outrage, weeping through his veins where ice remained. Whatever had thawed in these past years had chilled again. He could feel himself becoming stiff, becoming like death in wakefulness. He sat statue still in his large wooden seat. 

 

"That won't do, lad." Erska said from somewhere behind him, he didn't bother to turn around. "You need proper sleep. In a proper bed. And this won't do at all."

 

"I still dream about him. Both of them." Fili said in a hollow reply. "My life with my brother, that one day with Thranduil. I dream it all. I want to remember one and forget the other. But now, I'm not sure which one I want to forget and which one I want to remember. They're both so painful, now."

 

Erska sat next to Fili, outside of his vision. To her, he asked, "Is that bad?"

 

The dwarrowdam sighed. Obviously she couldn't tell him how he should be feeling or who he should be feeling for. The heart wants what it wants and you'd loose your mind trying to force it to behave. Fili knew how ridiculous it was to try to control the heart. He had lost. Lost it to his brother whom he knew he could never have. And lost whatever he tried to scavenge before heartbreak to Thranduil's gentle attentions. 

 

And that was it. Wasn't it? He couldn't be cross at the elf, no matter how he tried. He had the skill, the determination, the pride of a dwarf to reject the elixir and force the guards into bringing him back to his room. But he was far too concerned with trying to gather enough positive feelings and store them away. Even if they were false and riddled with starved lust. 

 

"I can't tell you how to feel, lad. All I can do, is to tell you that they aren't here. Either of them. You can't begin to try to repair rifts, or settle emotions, or even to reconcile them. All you have, is your own breath in your lungs, and your son. And you have to be strong for him. Teach him, love him, protect him. That's all you can do now. In the future? Who knows," Erska stood and pulled on Fili's elbow to get him to stand, "but keep this up and your son will find himself having to take care of you before you're grey."

 

Fili laughed. He could imagine that happening. A catatonic father staring at a wall while his young, faceless son scurries about getting him his dinner. It was a funny sight to see if only because he could see that happening in reality. And he knew she was right. He couldn't afford to loose himself to heartache when he had a son depending on him. 

 

"Now, time for bed. I'll show you to your room, shall I?" 

 

They travelled down winding halls that smelled progressively of livestock but not so much that it was overpowering. Fili had been surprised to hear that there were at least a dozen rooms in the underground home. Bilbo gasped and said the same was with Bag End and that even though the architecture was different Bilbo claimed she felt like she was home. This particular wing actually was close to the livestock area, Fili could hear the larger animals baying and making all sorts of their guttural speak through the thick wooden walls. The flagstone floors would be freezing if it weren't for the boots he wore. And he promised himself there, that he wouldn't let his son walk on these barefooted without at least two animal rugs. 

 

That startled him. 

 

The thought, the wonder at how long he and his family would be spending here at this permafrost home.

 

"Here yeh are. Sorry about the smell - if there is, I can't smell it so I'm sorry if it's strong - but you and Eruil should be fine here. I'm right down this hall, at the very end. I've stuck Bilbo just here and Erskin will sleep walk from room to room so please don't be startled if he tries to cuddle up next to you." With that Erska took off quickly down the hall, her brown and crimson tunics flowing around her. 

 

She must have been really tired for her to take off that quickly down the hall. Fili didn't think too much about it, so he allowed himself into his room. The heavy carved door swung open with a growl of grinding metal and opened up to a spacious room, again, carved bedposts, carved tables, carved... everything. He briefly wondered who would have the skill and eye to create these beautiful pieces. The attention to detail, flowers, animals, floral, dwarven geometrical shapes, runes, there were so many designs and each one were given careful attention. 

 

Fili lay his sleeping son, _Eruil_ , down on the patterned bed. It was low, even for a hobbit he assumed, where more golds, crimsons, blacks and the barest of grass green were weaved together to tell a story of the line of Kuzud. Which were some of the first dwarves to travel north and make a living here. The Kuzud family creation was similar to Fili's ancestor's own creation. 

 

Forbidden life created in the snowy wastes to tend and care for the lands and animals there. They were charged with protecting rather than mining and fighting like the southern dwarves were. The line of Er, whom now his son will share in their histories if only because he shares the same name, was a strong line that had lasted long in the world. Their women strong and able to bear children, the men protective and tending to the fields (with some who took on the women's roles if they could bear, or breed as they say up north. Fili couldn't quite get used to the term, it was used for animals and those who produced as quickly as them). 

 

Creation stories and gender roles aside, the north seemed like a good place to be. After the naming of his son it was unspoken that Fili and Eruil had been accepted as family, a bond thicker than blood and longer lasting than the stubborn rocks Fili came from. Bilbo and Nirin had been warmly welcomed as well, though Fili couldn't remember if Nirin had been introduced as his cousin or if only names had been offered up. 

 

Fili couldn't help but smile at his son. _His_ son. No-one else's. Thranduil wasn't here to help raise him, and he certainly couldn't get help from his own abandoned family. Fili just had to buck up and take this challenge head-on. He had plans for his son, plans that didn't include moping around houses or on the road at his own misfortunes. He was banished and that was that. But of course, there was always the chance that he could return. Prove that Eruil was Thranduil's son and not his brothers, the crowned prince. His heart skipped a beat at that possibility. Walk right into the green marble throne room and prove to the King just who's child it was. 

 

Then again, there is admittedly bad blood between the King and Thranduil. Bad blood that Fili was sure hadn't dissipated since his banishment even though trade agreement had arisen and been a possibility since his leaving that didn't mean that the King Under the Mountain would still be willing to accept Eruil. Nor did it ensure that his brother would accept the betrayal he had committed against him. Gah! It was all too risky, all too unsure when Bilbo and Nirin would have to be left behind. And he did make a promise to always be there for her, just as shes's made one to be there for him. He couldn't just abandon her. He couldn't. What had he been thinking-

 

There was a slamming of doors across the hall from him.

 

"What in Mahal's name-?" Fili went to open the door of his room and noticed for the first time the room adjacent to his. It was less ornately carved than the others, with a large ash tree etched into it, geometrical designs along the edges. It was simple, yet beautiful with nothing less than the same attention to detail paid to every other carving in the house. Fili walked up to it to feel the grooves of the ash tree when it suddenly opened and the door was replaced with a solid, naked chest. Momentarily confused, his eyebrows furrowed as he saw the telltale red hairs on the dwarrows chest. 

 

"Well, I don't think I've ever been so offended." The deep husky voice shook Fili to the core as he felt the vibrations in the man's chest through his hand. Fili's head snapped up to see that same infuriating dwarf. 

 

"You should be the one to talk." Not one of Fili's finer comebacks. 

 

"I am talking." Gold eyes pierced into Fili's own blue-green one's and for a moment, in the deep candlelight, he forgot how to breathe. The larger dwarf's eyes seemed entirely focused on Fili, and he couldn't be sure if he was particularly enjoying the attention. He was so used to making himself invisible, of having a partner (a brother) to deflect the attention to themselves as he was able to freely peruse. But here, one on one with this... incredibly huge dwarf... Fili was at a loss. Erlen shivered and it was then that Fili realized he still had his hand against the red-head's chest. "That's private areas, pretty one. You'll have to be nicer to touch-"

 

"Will you stop that!" Fili spoke, not backing down but definitely removing his hand as quick as if it had been burned. "I've got something to say and I'd rather say it than fight with you again."

 

Erlen stiffened. His eyes pinpoint focused now. It was hypnotizing, watching something as bright as his eyes react to a situation like this. The larger dwarrow's chest swelled with a sigh, and Fili realized that he had cut into the other man's bathing. 

 

"I- er- that is." _coward_ , "Thank you."

 

"What?" more like a statement, Erlen leaned closer to Fili and - _Mahal I wish he wouldn't do that_. 

 

"Thank you, for what you did for my son. Eruil. Thank you."

 

"Aye." was the plaintive reply. Still the dwarrow was in Fili's space, and the blond didn't think he had to back away for the red-heads comfort. "Is that it?"

 

"Is what it?"

 

"That."

 

"You'll have to be more specific than that."

 

"Just a 'Thank you'?" Erlen was smirking now, _smirking!_

 

"Why?" Fili crossed his arms, his tunic brushed the other's chest causing him to shiver again. "Want something else?"

 

_Could have been phrased better._

 

"Why, what are you offering?" There wasn't a lascivious look, nothing predatory or even sexual about it. But Fili chose to see it that way. 

 

Fili wanted to punch this man in the face. He was so infuriatingly thick-headed. And he had a feeling Erlen was doing this on purpose. 

 

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Shop's closed, laddie." Fili threw in a smile and a wink - don't know why - and turned on his heel and sauntered back in to his room.

 

He still had no idea why he was playing this game, it had always been said to never poke a stick at a bear, and he wasn't just poking, he was purposefully riling him up. Fili hadn't even taken a half a step when he was twirled back around and slammed into the wall beside his door. Automatically his hand came up to the larger dwarf's throat with a blade and another at the man's gut. It was a threat, a promise that Erlen wasn't thick enough to ignore. Still, his hands were gripped in Fili's tunic, shoulders pinned against the wall and being hovered over by Erlen. _Mahal I can't get over how big he is._

 

"You know, now that you offer." Erlen had frozen as soon as he felt the blades, he was just as experienced as Fili in fighting, even if the blonde didn't know it. "I was hoping for something from you."

 

His face got closer to Fili, right into his personal space. They were even close enough to kiss if they were so inclined. But the blades may have been in the way if they weren't a mood killer at this point. 

 

"Shops closed, laddie. Go take your bath, you stink of offel." It wasn't even true but it was something to say. Fili really didn't like this situation even if he seemed to have the upper hand Erlen had continuously proven that he was just as quick as Fili with all his bulk.

 

"How. About. A." Erlen got closer and closer as he realized that Fili wasn't that interested in killing or maiming. His lips we're close enough Fili could feel the heat of his breath. "Apology."

 

That threw him. An apology? From Fili? "For what!?" 

 

"For attacking me earlier." Erlen let Fili go but hadn't retreated. 

 

"That wasn't even my fault you were the one who offended Bilbo and me." In honor of Erlen letting him go Fili put the blades away, but kept his hands on the handles. 

 

"How was I to know that you would be too sensitive to such a common term?" Erlen countered.

 

"It's not even a common term in the south."

 

"Exactly, not that I would know that now would I? I'm a barbarian from the north aren't i?"

 

"Your barbarism has nothing to do with a proper education and decorum. You thick-headed-"

 

It wasn't the first time Fili had gotten a broken nose. He'd been familiar with the pain, the blossom of heat and flow of blood, the crunch of bones and cartilage. It didn't mean that he wasn't affected by the sudden pain. 

 

The fight was broken up in much the same way that it was earlier in the day, the only difference was that Fili was thrown over Erska's shoulder too. 

 

The next day Bilbo stared at Fili and Erlen's black eyes, Fili also had a split lip to go along with it, a slight limp and Erlen had been holding his rib cage since coming down the hallway.

 

"Rough night boys?" Erska came waltzing in with her flowing, but reasonable, tunics in creams and reds. Bilbo kept staring while Nirin tried laughing around her eating. 

 

Fili sat down with his son and a flagon full of fresh yak milk. He was startled when Erlen came knocking on his door in the middle of the night when Eruil was crying because of his hunger. Erlen had the flagon from last night and this morning had showed up at Fili's door with another fresh one. Despite the fight last night, Fili had accepted the flagons and admitted to Erlen's attentiveness to his son. No words were exchanged both times last night just the same as this morning. 

 

Eruil didn't mind anything that was going on around them, all that mattered in his own little world was that he was being fed by his papa. Fili ate while his son did, wrestling with the flagon at the same time he was trying to eat when Erlen made a grab for Eruil. Fili pulled away from Erlen's reaching hands. The look on the other dwarfs face was pained and surprised. 

 

"You need to eat, and I'm done eating. I can feed him." Erlen tried to reason.

 

"I can feed my own son." Fili stated. He tried getting his arm holding his son in just the position to eat and feed, his other hand held the flagon. 

 

"You can admit when you need help." Erlen said, still leaning forward. 

 

"I don't need help." Fili argued.

 

"Then one of you is going to starve." 

 

"I can feed him just fine." Fili's pride had been pricked, he tried shuffling his squirming child, flagon, and his own food.

 

"Sure, but you can't feed yourself at the same time." Erlen didn't make another motion to grab, but Fili could feel the energy. 

 

"I don't need _your_ help." Fili retorted pulling Eruil closer to him. The blond dwarf was just about to attempt to lift a fork of food to his mouth when Erska lifted flagon and babe out of his arms and gently placed Eruil in Erlen's waiting ones. "What the-" 

 

"Eat. You're going to be working today, there's no lazing about around here. Especially in the winter, there's always something to do. So eat, and Erlen will feed Eruil." Erska cleared Erlen's plate and joined Erskin at the sink to clean dishes. With Nirin fed, Bilbo was able to eat her own food and watch how the boy's were going to interact with another. 

 

Fili glared a good long while at Erlen before taking his first forkful. Erlen paid no attention to FIli, he was completely engaged in making faces at Eruil while the babe fed. Fili was surprised, especially after the tussle last night, to see Erlen so gentle and tender with Eruil. It was such a stark contrast with Erlen's double black eyes. His red rope-hair was pulled up neatly with a deep blue scarf with black stitching and wrapped into a bun. Erlen's bronze skin made his golden eyes shine even more than what Fili has determined as usual, red beard combed and neat, and mud-brown tunics. Fili was so concentrated at re-evaluating the other dwarf that in no time at all Eruil was done with his flagon of milk and Erlen was motioning for Fili to finish eating. 

 

After the early morning breakfast Erska taught Bilbo and Fili how to wrap their children around their backs so that they can work with their infants securely with them. Dressed, children wrapped and ready to be put to work Bilbo and Fili followed Erska out the back of the kitchen and down to the stables. 

 

On the way down Fili noticed various holes, similar to Ered Luin and Erebor's vent holes. He realized that there was a complex system down here that allows for such a comfortable living, he had to admit, he _really_ couldn't smell anything upstairs compared to down here. But Bilbo and he weren't too bothered to plug their noses against it. 

 

"Fili, dear, I'm sorry, you're going to be working down here. We need the extra help down here and you're the only other one strong enough to do it." Fili didn't like where this was going, "Erlen works the stables by himself usually. Erskin isn't big enough to help out, so he stays with me usually, but will come down to help out where he can. It's just with all these large animal's he can't be as alert with his lack o' hearing. Bilbo and I are going to go up stairs and make more buttons."

 

"Oh! I haven't made button's in nine years!" Bilbo said excitedly, Nirin laughed with her mother, Eruil was just as quiet as usual. Fili shifted his son's wrap around his shoulders, the carrying scarf awkward around his shoulders. 

 

"Well, I think you and I will have the button's turned out faster than I thought. You know how to make antler buttons? Yes? How about horn? Leather? Wood?" Bilbo nodded in assent to each quewstion, Erska clapped her hands excitedly. "OH! We are going to have the best of time. Fili, now I assume your - erm- carriers don't help out in the house, correct? So you should be fine with working with your hands, right? Good."

 

Erska began talking with Bilbo about the differences between dwarven buttons and hobbit buttons. Fili quickly lost interest. Despite him being a carrier, Fili was still considered a male and did the male things. Forge, smith, weapon's training, hunting, skinning, there were many things that a dwarrow did differently than the dwarrowdams. But here, it didn't matter if you were male or female, the work was divided up pretty much equally unless you've already given birth to your child. Then you have your definitive chores. And apparently, Fili would have been with the girls and Erskin upstairs making... buttons. But the blond dwarf was, instead, lead downstairs to work in the stables. And not alone either. 

 

Fili could hear a low, loud voice singing somewhere in the stables. There were sows with their piglets, goats and kids, horses and ponies, cows, and of course, yaks. Beyond the animal noises the signing voice got louder. 

 

"On came the foe, in bright ire,  
And fierce the assault was given,   
By bow and arrow, 'mid streams of fire,  
Her fated roof was riven;  
But baffled was the tyrants wrath,  
And vain his hopes to bend her,  
For still, 'mid famine, fire and death,  
And sing out- "No Surrender!"

 

"Erlen! Stop fluffin' hay you big lug, and pay attention!" Erska slammed her palm agains the post of the stable of a couple of cows, startling an old heffer. There were bits of hay floating in the air and immediately Fili began worrying. "Fili here is going to help you down here, so be nice. Fili, grab a pitchfork and get ter work."

 

With that Bilbo and Erska left, the hobbit without even a word of encouragement or stern look towards the blond dwarf. Fili was afraid to begin arguing and get all those bits of hay in his lungs. In a panic, he looked around the stables and noticed dust, dirt, bits of hay, and probably many other things that could attack him. He didn't move, and was almost too afraid to breathe. 

 

_Control._

 

_Breathe._

 

_Calm._

 

"Well, get to it." Erlen said before he began fluffing fresh hay for the cows. Trying to ignore Fili as much as he can. But the blond dwarf stayed where he was, trying not to move at all. "Come on, now. Don't make me call you a pretty dwarf. Get to it."

 

Still nothing, FIli was worried about his son, he wasn't sure if he would have attacks like he does. He knew that Eruil was born on time, nothing wrong with his lungs that he knew, but Fili got attacks sometimes and it would put him out for days, and Eruil could be that way. 

 

Fili tried backing out slowly, never being in this type of situation - a closed building with so many things that could make his lungs close. He was almost completely out of the cow's stables when a bit of hay landed on his head (tickling Eruil into laughing).

 

"I never knew you were such a lazy- Fili?" Erlen was about to keep going but noticed that Fili had been holding his nose and mouth with a bare hand. The red-head dropped the pitchfork and approached the blond cautiously. "Yeh a'right?" 

 

Eruil was playing with some of the straw attempting to bang it against his papa's head. The squealing and obviously happy boy couldn't distract Fili from wanting to run out of the basement stables and get some fresh air, even if it meant it was freezing air. But Eruil stopped him at his elbow as he was turning. Fili didn't have enough air in his lungs to fight.

 

"Yeh cannet breathe down here can yeh. Here." Eruil brushed off the straw and bits, took off his head scarf and wrapped it around the lower half of Fili's face. "There, how's tha'?"

 

It stank, like sweat and vaguely of manure, but it was working. He reached up, the fabric was soft, almost buttery, with copper threads he didn't see earlier running through it to catch the light. Fili tucked in the lower corner of the scarf into his tunic and looked at the bulky red-head again re-assessing him. He had assumed that the red-head would continue teasing him, drag him into another fight and get both of them in trouble. He supposed Eruil wouldn't fight with him when his son was strapped around his back, but that wouldn't stop him from verbally offending him. But he didn't.

 

The big beast of a man kept standing in front of Fili, not smirking, not smiling, not glaring, just standing there, assessing too. "So?"

 

"It works." Fili said, muffled.

 

"A course it works. Sometimes the chaff get's into yer nose and yer sneezin' up a storm. Tha's why yeh always carry a scarf."

 

"Where's yours?" Fili asked.

 

"Got an extra somewhere." Eruil laughed as he picked up his pitchfork and kept on working, instructing Fili where he wasn't sure what he was doing.

 

Lunch was quick and at the end of the day Fili was never so excited to see a bed. Eruil had enjoyed his time with his papa and just basically being out of a bed or off the floor. The extra time with Eruil had made Fili want to learn more about this type of work if only to spend more time with him during the day. He learned how to milk a yak for Eruil's meals, how Erlen made the custom flagon, which animal likes extra attention when it gets fed, which animal to avoid when feeding. And of all the animal's down there, Fili expected Erlen to be the most ungovernable. 

 

But he was pleasantly surprised. Erlen was helpful, patient, repeated gestures or actions over and over until Fili was comfortable to do it himself. And that was the difference from North and South dwarves. Up here, the more experienced dwarves taught the lesser experienced by going through the motions without narration, after a while of shadowing (usually months or years for the young ones depending on age) they add on the verbal instructions, then over-the-shoulder guidance, then none at all. Pass or... eventually pass. Their learning was conducted in the understanding that the children would take the time between first day on to the first day alone to see the mistakes made by their superiors and the best way to fix it. Or, come up with more alternative solutions. Which was Fili's forte considering he saw things others don't.

 

Dinner that night was rambunctious. Erskin couldn't help but 'talk' throughout the whole meal with Bilbo, who was quick to pick up languages. Erska checked in with Erlen on Fili's progress, and Fili was busy feeding his son and attempting to feed himself again at the same time. Fili was in the middle of wrestling with his son's food and his own when Erlen lugged past him silently.

 

"Erlen," Fili began and when those golden eyes locked with his he stopped talking, he stopped thinking and he was lost in those hues again. 

 

"Yes?" Erlen teased, he knew exactly what he was doing, and Fili didn't like it. "Did yeh want somehtin'?"

 

"I- erm-," Fili indicated flagon and Eruil. The southern dwarf wondered how the man was able to eat so quickly. 

 

"I canne' hear you, pretty one." Erlen made for the door again but didn't even get a step before Fili stood up to him, son still suckling at the flagon. "Oh, yeh want help again."

 

"Can you?" Fili tried again but didn't get anything else out.

 

"Yeh can try feedin' yer self and Eruil at the same time." Erlen offered before making a face.

 

"I just, well, you're done eating, I just wanted- erm." Erlen began walking away again. "Could you, take Eruil while I eat? I'm exhausted and-"

 

"What do we say, Fili?"

 

_"What do we say, Fili?" His_ amad _held his hands together to keep him from going after another child. He was much too old for the reprimand, but he hadn't been able to socialize with any other child when he was younger and had to learn now. So when someone would make fun of his brother when he would take him outside, he would get split bloody knuckles._

__Amad _hadn't taken his new personality well ever since his father had died. Fili was already-_

 

"Fili," Bilbo asked again with a coy smile, Erskin tugging on her sleeve to know what was going on, "What do we say?"

 

"Please." Fili begged. He was tired, hungry, and frustrated. He was frustrated because he didn't know how to handle Erlen, he'd never met a dwarf like him, not even Ki-. Fili gasped, _that was close_. "I just- please. I'm tired."

 

"Okay," Erlen agreed quickly, "a'right, okay, hand him here. I've got him. Don't worry yer self, eat."

 

The red-head took Eruil quickly and sat down at the table. Fili looked like he could barely lift a spoon he had been so tired. The next morning he didn't even recall falling asleep, but he didn't have enough time to worry about it. He wrapped his escapist son back up and began his day all over again. 

 

"Who brought me to my rooms?" Fili asked on the other side of a horse, today was his turn to teach, looking at the horses shoes and tending to the hooves of those without. "Because I know Erska could have done it. But I don't think it was her."

 

"Maybe it was Bilbo. She seem's to know her strength when she needs it." Erlen said with a careful blank face. He was brushing down a nag, Fili made sure his scarf was good and tight around his face, Eruil was napping against his back. 

 

Fili didn't try getting an answer out of the larger dwarf and kept filing down the hoof clenched between his legs. His back ached at the awkward angle from filing and keeping his son balanced at his back. He stood up, dropped the leg and bent backwards to alleviate his pain. He looked over to Erlen, who was studiously trying not to acknowledge Fili. 

 

"Alright, you oaf. You win." Fili placed a gentle hand on the horses flank and fully faced Erlen. "Would you please, help me with my son. I can't get to the hoof like I want and- Woah."

 

Erlen had quickly made his way over to where Fili was and put out his hands to take Eruil. The big dwarf reminded Fili of a puppy, easy to please. But he had also found out that his attention to his son extended to all small things. It was perplexing, to say the least. 

 

"Why are you so- Never mind." Fili began.

 

"What?" Erlen gently cradled the sleeping babe and sat on an overturned bucket. 

 

"Nothing, it's just. You're always so ready to take Eruil. And with the other animals, the smaller ones. Even Nira and Erskin you take special care to-"

 

"Not hurt them?" Erlen said gently, trying not to get his chest rumbling with his natural timbre. "It's because of my size, my strength. My father always told me to be careful, when he realized that I wouldn't stop growin. 'Take care o yer fists, lad.' he used ter say. Tha' and yer child is... well, Eruil is beautiful. I've never seen such light hair or pale skin."

 

"Come down to the south, There's so much pale skin and white hair than you would know what to do with." Fili said, picking up the hoof again. 

 

"Aye, but are any as pretty as you?" There was something in Erlen's voice Fili chose to ignore.

 

"Hah, well, I would think so. The dwarrowdams are very pretty, and some elves, if you have a taste for them, are pretty. There are some among Men who are catching as well." Fili kept filing, trying to ignore what Erlen had meant. "It all depends on what your after."

 

"Oh," Erlen began as if thinking of the perfect mate, Eruil was beginning to rouse, "Blond hair, color more like a hot steady fire, freckles dotting skin like stars in the sky waiting to be mapped, wind chaffed skin so tender, and soft red lips waiting to be kissed. Is there a dwarf like that out there?"

 

It was awkward, what Erlen was doing, how he was manipulating Fili's emotions, his need to be loved, accepted. Erlen had spoken of his own looks as if he were reciting poetry. As if he had taken care of each word spoken, of each syllable uttered. And it was nothing like the dwarf that he had come to know in the past few days. Fili knew it was going to get hard, living here for at least the winter, with a dwarrow like Erlen making it known that he fancies Fili. But it was all too much, too fast. He had only given birth to Eruil a little over two years ago, and before that had made a fiasco of his sex life with his own fears, insecurities and neediness. He wasn't sure he could open himself up for that again. Not for at least a few decades, or perhaps for a lifetime. 

 

"There is none. And if there was, he's got enough going on in his life to deal with... anyone." Fili said in finality. He took his son back when he was done inspecting the last hoof. Nothing else being said since then.

 

They moved around each other again, in contemplative silence, the air tense with desire and want, and of a need for more things to be said. But both were too stubborn to say anything until lunch was called.

 

Fili followed Erlen upstairs, a fresh flagon in his hands and son squirming against his back. 

 

"Fili," Erlen turned on the top few steps, blocking the way with his bulk. His face was darkened and his countenance seemed to shrink with the effort to not look as intimidating as he no doubt felt. "I just- I- I'm sorry. For what I said. I know you've been through a lot. But I just wanted to let you know, I'd like to be here for you, and Eruil, if I could. You're beautiful, and strong, and unlike any other dwarf I've ever known. You've got an air about you that demand's attention and I can't look away. You've captured me, completely and wholly, and I don't want you thinking, that I would ever take advantage of you. I care about you, and Eruil, I just want you to be happy. And if I do that best by feeding the little tyke while you eat, then I can do that. Just tell me what you want of me, and I'll do it. For you."

 

Fili looked up at Erlen he felt wretched for drawing such a man to him. An 'air that demand's attention'? Really. Him? He couldn't imagine catching the eyes of anyone. Even his brother's eyes had gone wondering, but that was due to youth and the understanding that they couldn't have been more even when they wanted to. There was no question at Thranduil's drive and there were no one else Fili could count as wanting him so badly as Erlen had confessed he did. 

 

"Erlen," Fili said hollowly.

 

"Yes?" He replied, eager but sorrowful in the same.

 

"Lunch is waiting."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* comments are manna....
> 
> The song that Erlen sings is an old irish song called "Derry's Deathless Song."


	8. Explosive Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili begins exploring the frustrating implications to Erlen's confession. He wants to forget what had been shared, but how could he when his own feelings have been exposed too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out some art here -->http://midnightsonlybliss.deviantart.com/art/Maiden-of-Erebor-443915032. fem!Bilbo. N(really)SFW.

Lunch after Erlen's confession was a little tense for Fili, he was sure it was the same for Erlen as well considering neither of them were speaking. Erlen took Eruil while Fili ate, then they switched so that Erlen could eat too. Lunch was quick, Fili wanting to be distracted by work rather than having the time to think about what Erlen had meant. He was straight forward with what he wanted. Too straight forward for Fili. He was worried that Erlen was only telling him this for the dwarfs own benefits, despite what he said about taking advantage of him.

 

Regardless, Erlen was still so good with Eruil that he couldn't deny it. Just because Fili was giving him the cold shoulder, didn't mean that Erlen was going to stop making faces at his son. But he decided that he wasn't going to let the other dwarrow drag him into any other fights. He was determined to not react at all with Erlen, it was only kinder to not lead the lad... was he a lad? Mahal, Fili didn't even know how old the dwarrow was. For all he knew he was just a giant dwarfling. It would explain his puppy dog nature. 

 

There was a tugging on his sleeve and he turned to look down at Erskin who had pieces of vegetables hanging out of his mouth. He tried making a scary face but it only made Fili laugh loudly at the unexpected act. The blond held his stomach as Erskin 'attacked' him and Fili pretended to be frightened. Signing as much as he knew he let Erskin know he was a terrible beast.

 

He picked up the small boy, only past knee high, and lifted him over his shoulder while sitting at the long bench at the table. He tossed him around on his broad shoulders and kept laughing while Erskin 'clawed' at his back making noises he assumed a monster would make. It came out like a dog whining crossed with some high pitched gargling.

 

"I think you got your hands full with him, Fili. He's been wanting to play with you all day." Erska sat at her empty rib soup bowl. Her hands were steepled under her chin as she was watching the boys play. Bilbo and Erlen feeding the children.

 

"I used to play this game with my brother. Only he would climb _everywhere_. He was the best climber I knew." Fili translated, again what he knew, to Erskin in Ingleshmek. 

 

"The last thing my son needs is idea's, Fili." Erska laughed. She stomped gently on the floor twice and Erskin looked around the room and found his mother making eye contact with him and watched her sign to him. 

 

The little one huffed, chubby cheeks puffing out and Fili watched his triangle tattoos dance on his cheeks. Some of the veg fell out of his mouth and he picked them up, put them on Fili's plate and began clearing off the table. This part wasn't any different from North and South.

 

Children were expected to clear off the tables after meals in the south. Fili (when he was strong enough) and his brother (when he got older, though he would consistently disappear during this time) would always be tasked with clearing off the table, checking with the adults if they were done with their meal, wanted more to drink, or get their pipes. Erskin did it with as much enthusiasm as _nadadith_ had. 

 

Fili smiled while watching the youngest Er and got ready to swath his son against his back again. Erlen helped Fili get the wrap right and placed Eruil in the swath. The little white haired lad squealed delightfully while being lifted up and the boys made their silent way downstairs leaving the women and Erskin to do... what ever it was that they were doing today.

 

\--

 

"That was different." Bilbo said while she finished up feeding Nirin. Erska got the loom out where half of a blanket was finished. Shades of greens wove a picture of a mountain reflecting off a lake in opposite colors. Geometrical designs trimmed the top of the blanket and would reflect the bottom when done. 

 

"Erlen must have told him how he feels about yer nephew." Erska pulled the pins on the loom and shuttle to get the design she wanted. 

 

Bilbo pulled a face, watching Erska move the shuttle through the weaves and tighten the threads. She knew nothing of looms, so the intricate parts were as much foreign to her as everything else in the north. She let Erska's sure movements distract her and looked at what she knew about the boys' interaction.

 

Explosive, at first. That was most certainly due to a confusion of cultures. Though, if you asked a certain hobbit, there may have been more to it than meets the eye. Sure Fili and Erlen were as much the same as a pony and a work horse, both able to pull their weight in their respects, as stubborn as they come when they want to, but they are, for the most part, the most gentle creatures one can have, and though the same they are still a different animal completely. They were gentle in the way that most dwarves are. Brash, grappling for attention and superiority, but on the whole, caring, attentive to other's needs, even if they tend to be a little bit selfish.

 

"How did you-"

 

"Erlen came to me last night, after I took you to yer room. Poor lad is all twisted up over yer boy." Erska kept at the shuttle and loom, an easy concentration gracing her face. Her dark, almost black eyebrows were slim but broad where they reached her hairline and disappearing there much like Nori's. Bilbo noticed, out of the corner of her keen eye that Erskin was taking his time pulling plates and cups off the table, carrying them one at a time into the kitchen to be deposited in the sink, then repeating the gesture. He kept looking over to his mother to see if she was watching him, and Bilbo smiled. "The differences of Northerners and Southerners obviously isn't keeping Erlen from finding Fili attractive. He is a very handsome dwarf."

 

"Yes, I agree. But I don't believe Fili can reciprocate the gesture. As I've told you, he's had it pretty rough where his heart is concerned. I wouldn't be surprised if Fili rebuffed your son's advances." Bilbo decided it was time for Nirin to stop eating just milk and wondered if she could get her to eat fruit or potatoes later, though she knew that her growing daughter could eat more now (a hobbit lass she was after all) Bilbo needed to finish stitching the patterns on Erskin's new coat she decided to gift the boy with. She had covered herself properly and re-swaddled her to burp her. 

 

Erska nodded in assent. She, of course, most likely knew more about relationships and the confusion it brings than Bilbo and Fili combined. In fact, Bilbo was willing to bet she had more experience than all the adults in the household. 

 

Speaking of, Bilbo began inspecting the kitchen a bit more now that dshe had the time. The walls, like most dwarven households Bilbo was sure, were squared off, like the houses of Men, rather than the rounded halls of smials Bilbo grew up in. The kitchen, and combined dining area, were white washed some time ago, but the age has made it more a sandy white. Dark marks along the walls where candles burned against the plaster. Rich, dark wood beams were a stark contrast to the walls and reminded Bilbo more of the general architecture of Erebor (the only stronghold she'd ever seen). Crisscrossing in structured patterns to be pleasing to the eye, but functional in it's design. Wooden and replacing iron pegs were set up where, assumedly, coats, herbs, or game would rest. There were many, so Bilbo assumed coats. 

 

Near the kitchen fire, where Erska and her had prepared dinner, were pewter and brick walls, burned and charcoaled from large fires meant for feasting. Bilbo could only assume what a summer was like here. 

 

The plaster walls were the same in the whole house. Of course, how could she forget this detail, each post and lentil were carved. Different designs, stories, and unfinished products covered the whole house. And all of it settled partially underground like smials, except they had more floors below for animals and storing. It was all quite fascinating. 

 

Bilbo couldn't really see herself getting too comfortable here. All of it was dwarven down to the last nail, and Bilbo was uncomfortable at the similarities of house and smial. And she knew, that no matter how she tried to fit in. She'll always be just a silly little hobbit from the Shire. But she wasn't even that any more, now was she. 

 

Miss Baggins, burped child over her shoulder, reached into a secret little pocket that carried a secret little trinket. 

 

\--

 

"AH! _Menech_!" 

 

Fili lifted his head to see Erlen shaking his right hand then sucking on a finger. They were shoveling manure when Fili heard Erlen yell out. He dropped his shovel and rushed over to Erlen as quickly as he could, careful not to bounce his son too much. 

 

"You alright?" Fili came up along his side where a broken handled shovel was gripped in his left hand. Fili didn't touch him.

 

"Aye yes, I'm fine. Cut my bloody hand on this bloody thing." Erlen sucked at his wounded hand some more his face scrunched in pain. Fili noticed there was blood at the corner of his mouth and began looking around for something to make a bandage out of it. "I'm fine, Fili, the blood's already stopped."

 

"Yes, but you could get an infection if you let it alone. I'll run upstairs and get you a bandage. What type of herbs to you have?" With meager herbs Fili could make a good enough poultice to pull out enough of whatever wood and manure was in the dwarf's cut. Water alone could work but he didn't want to take any chances. 

 

"Heh?" Erlen mumbled around his mouthful of hand. Fili realized just how dirty the dwarrow's hands must be and cringed, even though he was only clearing the path between adjacent stables clear, he winced at all the things that shovel handle had touched. 

 

Fili ignored the shiver and began walking the two flights of stairs from the stables to the kitchen above where he knew there were the things he needed. He didn't pay any attention to the call from Erlen saying he was fine. He would be less than fine if he let infection set in. Behind him, Eruil was gurgling his first mouthful of syllables. Every night since Eruil had begun being able to crawl around, Fili had been repeating 'papa' as often as he could to ensure his first word was him. Working on the syllables on his tongue, Fili was sure that Eruil would be able to start talking a lot sooner than _nadadith_ had been able to. His son was even trying to advance from crawling to pulling himself up to stand. The blond dwarf was just too excited to watch his son grow, but sad it was happening so fast.

 

\--

 

"I'm just saying, if you used the red onions as a dye for your thread you get such a richer color than if you used such poisonous dyes." Bilbo debated with Erska. They were currently spinning wool to make thread and the women found themselves laughing over everything. Erskin, however, hadn't been watching the women but playing with Nirin on the floor between the women. He and the dwarfling hobbit were playing with swords and horses. Nirin gurgling and squealing over the attention she was getting. 

 

"Aye, lass, but the color dodn't stay as long as this stuff." Erska picked up the container of powdered dyes to indicate her preferred method. "Besides, all the poison is boiled out when you set the color, so it's harmless."

 

"Still, the fumes in the air, and we're doing this now and not during the summer where we could air it out?" Bilbo looked worriedly at her daughter, hoping that Erska would see her concern.

 

"Och, yes. Nirin will be fine. I've done it with all my children around. Besides, I can't wait to get these strings dyed, I've been trying to finish Erlen's baby blanket for years now." Erska sounded as if she were conspiring. 

 

Bilbo paused in her spinning to stretch her fingers. It had been so long since she'd done any type of house work like this, she'd always been used to writing, reading, gardening, cooking, eating and smoking pipe. Well, the last two wouldn't really count as labor, but she still enjoyed them both. It was one thing that Bilbo noticed in the north, they didn't smoke. And when the hobbit had asked where she could smoke the rest of her pipe weed Erska calmly told her they only used it for ceremony, but that she could smoke anywhere in the house. Out of respect, Bilbo didn't.

 

The hobbit lass realized that her habits have changed drastically since those dwarves, well, Gandalf specifically, came calling to her. In fact, there were hardly any hobbity things that Bilbo had been able to enjoy in recent years. Even her eating habits have changed and she's a leaner woman for it. Training swords with Fili had given her muscles she never dreamed of having, skills included. Her hair was growing longer and wasn't trimmed in the way most gentlewomen had them. She had no ribbon or flowers in her hair, in fact, she couldn't remember when last she wore ribbon or flowers. Obviously sometime before her great adventure, but she couldn't exactly recall when. 

 

Many things have changed with Bilbo. And so little have remained the same. It worried her, not particularly because she was any less of a hobbit, but because she was more dwarf but she would never _be_ a dwarf. She could still walk around this cozy little house without coverings and her ears were pointed and her hair was curlier than a dwarf's, but all in all, she was, in appearances and mannerisms, now a dwarf.

 

"Baby blanket?" Bilbo laughed outright, "I'm sorry, Erska, but I think Erlen is too big for a baby blanket."

 

"Oh, it wouldn't be for him." Erska, without pausing in her thread making, looked to Bilbo and waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Care to make a wager when they start making children?"

 

Bilbo internally gasped, horrified, at such a crude suggestion. First of all, betting on when Fili would become pregnant was absolutely rude. Secondly, she didn't believe the lad was ready for any type of commitment until Eruil was off and married and had his own children. Even then she wondered if Fili would ever have enough pieces of his heart to take a partner. 

 

Just then, Fili came practically running up the stairs, Eruil strapped carefully to his back and Erlen following closely behind, arguing about something. The boys were getting louder as Fili made his way to the hanging herbs and indicated Erlen to sit at the bench. 

 

"Now what did you two break. Or cut." Bilbo asked exasperatedly. Fili didn't have his usual herbs to draw bruises out of his eyes, and the bridge of his nose was still split where bone and cartilage broke. Erlen's cheek was bruised too but Bilbo couldn't see it too well under all the dirt smeared on his face. 

 

"It was entirely Erlen this time. I didn't do anything." Fili said lightly but defensively. He pulled the fresh herbs down from where they were sitting and looked around the shelves in jars for more ingredients, oil of lavender was the last thing he found. Before pulling down the cheese cloth he made sure there was water boiling over the fire. Then, thinking better of having his son against his back, Fili deposited his child next to Nirin and went back to the table, Erskin following him eagerly.

 

"I don't believe you-" Erska teased still spinning her string. 

 

"It was me, amàd." Erlen flexed his injured hand and fresh blood started seeping out against slivers. "I broke the shovel handle, the iron one, I thought I had one more winter with it. But now it looks like we'll need a new one when the traders come."

 

"Aye, and they aren't cheap either, son." Erska looked off in to the distance, as if she were calculating just how expensive it would be to have foreign iron work done. "Wish we could afford an oaken shovel. That would be lovely."

 

"You don't have a smith for this?" Fili asked a little more eagerly than he wanted to let on. He smiled down at Erskin who was watching him mix herbs and put them into the cheese cloth, before doing that, Fili made a show of taking the comfrey leaf and mashing it with his fingers as well as the other leafy herbs he used to let the lad know next time. 

 

"Och, no. You wouldn't be able to tell, but we don't use this hostel much, just the travelers and families who go south to trade. Some merchants use this place but no one has used it in years." Erska finally took a break from spinning, flexing her fingers and shaking out cramps. "Therefore, we don't have a smith nearby. Actually, we don't even have a smith at the main village. We trade for that kind of stuff."

 

Fili looked over to Bilbo and she nodded to him. He finally tied off the cheese cloth and went to grab the kettle. In a bowl he let the mix of herbs steep like tea. Bilbo realized he was making a poultice. She'd never seen how it was done, but she knew the miracles it made. If not for her mother's when she was a child she would have ended up with an infection to her leg after being chased out of farmer Maggots fields. 

 

"You know," Fili let the poultice steep a little longer in a more shallow bath and turned to Erlen with one of his stiletto blades. He silently asked for Erlen's reluctant hand ("Hold still or I'll prick you.") "I'm a smith. Iron, silver, steel, copper, bronze, I can use any metal except gold and mithril. I could take over the forge."

 

Erska turned around in her stool and watched Fili gently coerce Erlen to give up his injured hand and passively watched how the blond dwarf carefully dug out slivers. Fili was now fully concentrated on not hurting Erlen even more. 

 

"It would have to wait till summer, lad, the forge is over at the main village only a half days walk east of here." Erska watched her son keep flinching when he thought Fili was digging too deep. Bilbo saw the control at watching her eldest son hurt and wondered how she could keep from freaking out. When Nirin had bumped her head a few weeks prior to fleeing for Forodwaith, Bilbo had felt like a sow protecting her cubs. She rushed over and bowled Fili over to get to her crying daughter. It was heart wrenching. 

 

"Calm down, you big brute. You're so sensitive-" Fili paused, lifting the blade away from Erlen's hand, "You're an archer."

 

"Aye," Erlen answered as if in caution, worrying at the dangerous blade in the warriors hand. "How did you know?"

 

"M-my brother. He's an archer." Fili went back to Erlen's hand's, impossibly more careful than earlier. "I used to have to wrap his fingers after he trained for too long. I recognize the callouses. You're left handed."

"Aye." Erlen said more as a question than an agreement. Done with pulling splinter's from Erlen's hand, Fili squirreled the stiletto on his person and turned to grab the poultice, completely missing Erlen's soft look. It was a sort of sorrowful gaze, as if he knew the pain of missing someone you love. Bilbo didn't mention to Fili that she saw it, it would only cause Fili to be more... awkward around Erlen.

Erskin was playing with some of the leaves and Fili told Erska to warn the child about getting the comfrey in his system. The red-headed mother signed to her son and he very carefully placed the leaf back wide-eyed. 

"Yer not tryin' ter poison me, are yeh?" Erlen asked, one of his bright eyebrows were raised as he held his injured hand tenderly. 

Fili scoffed at him but didn't answer him. It would be lying to claim that they couldn't be poisonous, the leaves, but he wasn't actively trying to poison him... _yet_. Poultice bag in hand, Fili brought it over to the injured dwarf, Erskin following, watching intently, and had Erlen grip the pouch in his hand lightly, careful not to squeeze it too hard. 

"If you let the leaves get into your wound it could poison you, this cheese cloth and the flannel will keep the pieces out. In the mean time, let that sit until it get's too cool. Not cold." to Erska, "Replace the leaves in the pouch with fresh ones, from the bowl until all of it is used. We'll do another at dinner, another just before bed, and I'll wake you up in the night to do another. It's important to get four sessions in before any infection takes."

 

While he was speaking he wrapped the poultice around Erlen's hand to help keep it there, then he put the plants and oils away, made sure he didn't leave any leaves lying around for the children to find, then put the kettle back.

 

Erskin watched, he learned from, Fili. His softer, golden eyes flicking to Fili's every movement. The blond dwarf thought it would be a very good thing for Erskin to learn healing, if he couldn't fight, then he could be a great healer. After all, Oin was difficult of hearing and was a great healer, even if he still could fight, but that was besides the point. 

 

Oh! But Fili knew of other Watcher's that were excellent at what they did and they had similar handicaps as Erskin. Though they could never do what Fili does, did, they were still Watchers. Herbalists, apothecaries, smiths, weapons experts, trainers, and brawlers. You didn't have to hear to be able to see a fist coming. Some of the trading and gambling areas in the Watcher district in Ered Luin had some of the best fighters who were deaf or otherwise handicapped. 

 

So, instead of treating Erskin as if he were just a poor boy who couldn't hear, he treated him like any other child, with respect and kindness. It was something that the lad had obviously picked up off of Fili. It helped him to know that a sensitive child like Erskin didn't see him as a murderer, a killer, or a watcher who is dangerous to dwarf and home on any good day. That the child saw Fili as a papa raising a child without the father, a dwarf who teaches herbs, and works with his family to be able to survive the harsh conditions of the Northern winter. It made Fili hope that he could be something other than a Watcher, even if that was all he was besides brother and a short-term heir to the throne.

 

"I'm going back downstairs to keep working. You," Fili pointed to Erlen, "Need to rest."

 

"Fine, but leave Eruil up here. The lad could use some floor time." The red-head pointed to Fili's son who was trying to pull himself up on Bilbo's stool. She was watching the children actually play together before laughing and congratulating Eruil for standing assisted. 

 

Fili looked torn for a minute, he had his child's sash ready to be tied around him but he saw the good it was doing for his son to be able to move around, rather than be strapped to his papa's back all day. He wished he could stay up here and play with his son, but there was milking to be done, haying and shoveling to be finished, items downstairs that needed fixing. There was just no time to be with his son like he wanted to. And he finally understood why there was a carrier and a father. Why you needed that 'balance' he had explained to his _amad_ so long ago. One person couldn't do it by themselves. 

 

It was then that Fili resolved to allowing the other dwarf to help him out, where his son was concerned at least. He just couldn't raise Eruil the way he wanted to without it. With Erlen around, and other dwarves promised to show up during the summer months, Fili would be able to spend more time with his son, albeit working just like the women and other gossipy carriers, breeders, but that would be time with his son he could have. Erlen would be able to be there when Fili would be able to open up the forge, a very dangerous place for crawling/walking children. It could work. It really could, and he can go back to being a prince. 

 

Fili shook his head, he can't think like that, like he actually has a chance at ever going back home. But the sad thing was, is that he _does_ have a chance. A chance to redeem himself and become the Watcher Prince, the leader of a novel guild of Night Watchers who pride themselves on due-justice. He could be an eventual king, if the current one couldn't produce heirs, with his brother ruling by his side as Prince General, his elf wife Tauriel acting as a proud warrior by her husbands side. It was a dream. A dream of a future that he had willingly given up to be with his best friend, and in all intents and purposes, his aunt, and her child. To protect them from the wilds, from ever being pursued-

 

"Fine, I'm going downstairs." Fili said stiffly, but before walking past Erlen, he put his hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing the mountain of muscle there. Blue-green eyes searched for those kind gold eyes that danced with deep, dark depth in the firelight. Those eyes jealously guarded by crimson lashes and adorned with smooth bronzed skin. "Rest."

 

\--

 

Bilbo watched Fili leave to go downstairs, Erskin following to just the top of the steps. The little red-headed boy skipped over to the little ones gurgling nonsense to the other. They must be having an important meeting, Bilbo thought with a small chuckle. 

 

The hobbit lass who was more dwarf than hobbit looked over to the matriarch of this Northern family. Bilbo rolled her eyes, shook her head and said, "I give it three, no, three and a half months. I like food as payment. Maybe some rutabaga casserole."

 

"Oh? So soon? Spring is always the best time don't you agree, Miss Baggins? I like a good adventure book." Erska and Bilbo laughed conspiringly against a dumbfounded red-headed dwarf scoffing at batty, cabin-fevered, bree-carriers, who have nothing on their hands except gossip, and an unwitting blond dwarf.

\--

 

Fili was able to keep busy by himself easy enough. The chores he had lined-up for himself after Erlen had been injured might have been a little too much, but all he really wanted was to keep his mind too busy to think about the larger dwarf. It didn't help that he kept looking over his shoulder expecting Erlen to be there. Fili ended up exhausting his mind rather than his body, he was more mentally exhausted from trying _not_ to think about the other dwarrow. 

When dinner time came, Fili prepared himself to be in the same room as Erlen. He washed up at the basin to the right of the stairs before heading up. He made a stop at the larder that was in between the ground floor and the stables. In the pantry he looked for some of the ripened fruit that he could try feeding Eruil with and ween him off of the yak's milk. His son has already begun his growth spurt. 

Too many nights recently has Fili woken up to his son crying because of the pain in his legs and back. On those nights Fili would draw him a warm bath (as his mother had with him) and rub the lad's muscles to assuage the pain he was feeling. More recent nights, neither son or papa would get any sleep.

Upstairs, dinner was just being set, pork cutlets, a mix of winter veg, and some sort of gravy from the drippings of the pork. It all smelled good. Bilbo was just setting down Fili's mug of ale when he noticed Erlen was feeding Eruil, again. This time, the dwarf was feeding him some mashed veg. It looks like they both had the same idea. Erlen did sleep across the room from them, it would be impossible for the other dwarf to not notice the change both the infants were going through. 

"Oh," Erlen stopped feeding Eruil the veg, "did you want to feed him the fruit?"

It was another awkward conversation between the two and Fili was already getting tired of it. "No, it's fine. He can have the veg. I'll save it for him later."

"Aye. He's eating it really well. You probably could have started earlier." Erlen said off handedly as he fed Eruil some more. Of course, he completely missed Fili's shoulders twitching at the suggestion.

"You're saying I don't know how to parent?" Fili said, he didn't take his seat on the bench next to the red-headed dwarf, instead he placed a fist on his hip and tossed the green fruit in the air as he would twirl a knife. He let his intimidating stance speak well enough for him.

"Och, not again." Erska said from across the table. Erskin looked on with a smile, either not able to tell what was going on, or entertained at the two stubborn dwarrow's interaction with the other. Bilbo smiled and kept feeding her daughter with soggy pieces of bread. "Erlen, son, you'll have to start explaining yerself before Fili get's the wrong idea."

"No, I meant it." Erlen looked up to the challenge. "You could have started feeding him earlier, it would have given him the type of energy he needs for growing." 

Fili looked like he was going to lob the pear at Erlen's head, he caught the fruit again and squeezed it hard enough for juice to start flowing from the split skin. The air started getting tense again. "I know. Between traveling and lack of food, I couldn't start earlier."

"Then their was his naming that got you upset," Erlen offered smoothly, Eruil giggled and escaped his wrapping, kicking as freely as he pleased.

"Then getting used to the North," Fili sat down, putting down the pear and cleaning his hand.

"And the fighting in between," Erlen tickled Eruil.

"You're right, I could have started earlier." Fili conceded. Fili tucked in without another word and Erlen, finished feeding and eating himself, played with Eruil.

The lad was balanced on the massive thighs of the red-head and bounced happily, tiny fists gripped around thick fingers. The white haired little dwarfling-elf squealed and gurgled and bounced in Erlen's lap with his own strength. Erlen smiled and gave the little one praise for being so strong, and 'look at you go'. Fili couldn't help himself and smile. Just a bit.

\--

Bilbo watched the boy's stand-off, toe-to-toe, figuratively, and was proud to see that she couldn't see the usual tension Fili would have if he was actually upset. It made her smile the whole time. She could see Fili loosen up, getting used to his surroundings more and giving the Northerners the benefit of the doubt before instantly attacking or feeling offended. Her nephew, for all intents and purposes, was growing up. And that wasn't far from the truth. Majority he may be, but he still reacted as if he were a dwarfling, though, he has matured immensely since giving birth to such a beautiful son. 

Across the table from her, Fili sat down and began eating silently, Erlen playing with Eruil. She smiled at the boys' development but knew that they still had a long way to go before they could actually be civil to each other. That aside, she knew that Erlen found Fili attractive, and she could tell that Fili felt something for the other dwarrow. But she could tell that Fili was trying too desperately to not feel anything. 

It saddened her heart to see Fili deny his so much, but considering what he's been through the last few years, she didn't blame him for his hesitancy. Put in the same situation, Bilbo was sure that she would be reacting the same way. But she didn't lose just a lover, or a family like Fili, she lost her One. The only person she would ever love. 

The king had been everything for her, and she thought that she was everything to him, he'd confessed as much. But It seemed like it wasn't true. Perhaps he had only given her lip service, saying those things simply because she was a female traveling with males. Perhaps, like Fili's watcher 'claim', _that_ dwarrow had made a claim on her, to keep her to himself during their travels. And when it looked like she wasn't going to cater to him any more, he would come crawling back and want more from her. 

It's not as if she had only began thinking of this now, she had always wondered why he was so hot and cold with her. And the tipping point had been when they had reached the mountain. That was when he started getting more cold than hot. Despite 'gifting' her with all those gems and jewels, and that blasted too-comfortable chain-mail shirt, he had only done all that because she could give comforts that no-other dwarrow on the road with them could. She wasn't from their race, she wasn't bound to their rules and laws and had her own home half-way on the other side of the world. 

But she had taken something more precious with her besides what can be mined and given away so easily. She has a daughter, living blood flowing through her tiny daughter, her raven black hair, curling at the tips and fluffing along her jaw already. She was going to grow stout like a dwarf, but with those pointed ears, long hairy feet, and a healthy blush and appetite fit for a hobbit, she was more her child than the kings. Even if there were so little about her daughter that was hobbit, she would ensure that her daughter would never know her father. 

If she were only that brave.

"Bilbo, lamb, are yeh feeling well?" Erska asked, all eyes diverted to her. She looked around and smiled as sweetly as she could, closing her eyes against the sting of tears. He called her a betrayer of trust, but who had broken who's trust? She had finally been able to trust someone after her horrible childhood with her aunt and uncle. And she felt like he would have tossed her over the battlements if he could have he hated her so. 

"I'm fine. Just tired." Bilbo lied easily. 

Bilbo went to bed early, leaving the boys in their awkward handoffs of Eruil, Erska teaching Erskin more Ingleshmek. She knew she wouldn't be missed, so she didn't mind it when it was finally just her and her daughter. 

Nirin had been fussy all day, in the nights too, never being too still to sit or satisfied enough to crawl around. On top of her growing practically before her eyes, Nirin was teething too, making it harder to feed her. Perhaps it was time to start weening her too. Bilbo had fruit and soft breads in her room already (not being able to eat enough as a hobbit had been breaking her during the day), so she could start getting Nirin to chew on the heels of bread to help her teething. 

There was a knocking on the door. Bilbo put Nirin on the floor to scoot around and find her toys, cloth dolls, wooden swords, and horses that rolled smoothly across the flagstone floor. 

"Yes?" Bilbo opened the door and saw Erlen on the other side of it. 

"I wanted to give this to the two of you. If you wrap it around the children's wrists they can play with it and it'll also help with their teething." Erlen handed over a string of beads, all different colors and none of them metallic, with a large animal tooth dangling on the end. "We usually give these to our children at birth. But I thought, since the children are getting older, they can begin chewing on them."

Bilbo took the string of beads, not wanting to seem rude. She examined the thread, beads and tooth. All of them unfamiliar to her. "They won't choke on them? Untie?"

"Ah, no. It's tied with sinew, if you burn the ends it'll melt together. She'll be fine, even Eruil liked it." The large dwarf chuckled a little. She imagined he actually had a tougher time than he was letting on about tying it onto the lad. Otherwise it was FIli who was raising a stink about it. Either way, Erlen wouldn't do anything to hurt the children. 

"Oh if you insist." Bilbo allowed Erlen to enter her bedroom. She watched as Erlen took the bracelet from Bilbo's hand and tied it snugly around her daughters wrist. Nirin looked at the new object around her wrist and gave Erlen a dirty look that made the dwarf laugh.

"Oh, she's got spunk. She's something else, she is." He ruffled her black curls and laughed at her some more when she tried out the tooth for the first time. "See? She's fine. Eruil loves his too, though Fili gave a heated talking to about choking children, and barbaric toys made of animal teeth."

Erlen scratched the back of his head, his loose ropes singing with the beads and a few bells he added the other day. Gold, bronze, copper and ivory decorated so much of his hair she worried at how heavy his head was. He looked down at Nirin enjoying her teething toy.

"Fili thinks too much." Bilbo offered, defending Fili somewhat. "Truth is, he overthinks many things. But if you've ever seen his brother, you'd understand his constant worrying."

Bilbo took a seat at her bed, thinking twice of offering the dwarf a place next to her in order to escape any misunderstandings. The height difference between them now was too stark to be comfortable with, she half wanted to stand on the bed just to have a chance at coming shoulder level with him. Come to think of it, if she stood on the bed she'd be taller than Fili by half a hand. That would be lovely not to be the shortest. 

"So he had a Valaraukar of a brother?" Erlen looked skeptical.

"Oh yes! Those two would not stop, the whole eight months it took to get to Erebor, in playing pranks on everyone. Even when we were all down, starving, angry, and lost, they never stopped. Though, I have a strong feeling that K- erm, Fili's brother started it. They could never be separated. And when Stone Giants split them apart, they still found each other again. I don't think I've seen two people try to fuse together as much as those two.

"The deal with them boys is their past. What ever it is. I still don't know. But Fili was bed ridden up until his brother was born, after that the lad fought so hard to beat his illness that he rejects help out of forced habit. He's proud because of his accomplishments. Over-protective after raising his brother after their father died. And he feels he has to succeed everything every time. If he's ever failed, I fear it would only drive him to be worse off than he already is.

"But he's not a terrible dwarf. No, in fact, he's very loving, very giving. There were times when there wasn't enough food to go around he gave up portions to his brother who had barely hit majority and therefore, has a bigger appetite. He would rather starve than let anyone he loves go hungry. He's such a gentle, caring lad, but he's also careful with his heart now. His uncle had banished him and his brother had fallen in love with another."

"What about Eruil's father. Thranduil, you called him. Who is he?" Erlen asked, crouching next to Nirin.

"Oh... Thranduil. He's- erm- an elf, King of Mirkwood. He's given much grief and hardship to Fili. But that's his story to tell. I don't like talking about that."

"The king's affections were unwanted, so he took Fili by force." Erlen said placidly. 

Bilbo didn't answer, afraid that she had said too much. Erlen's shoulders were hunched, his face ducked down and making soft, funny faces at Nirin, as if he didn't want her to see him upset. 

"So he won't ever love again? Is that what you're saying?" Erlen asked, not looking up.

"I didn't say that, dear." Bilbo stood and walked over to the dwarf. She settled a small hand on his stone tough shoulders, "But I do want to know your intentions of him."

"To love him." Erlen answered quickly, almost interrupting her. "I love him so much, I want to show him love, I want to let him know that he can be loved, again. He's beautiful, his gold spun hair, when it catches the light, oh, Bilbo! He makes my heart swell with happiness when he allows himself to laugh, to smile even. It hurts too much when he does that, but I would like to be the cause of it. His eyes are like the crystal lake, reflective, with those blues and greens you think it's only a few furloughs deep but it's deeper than you can believe. Hiding all sorts of treasures. His hands are strong and capable, light and thieving, quick and dangerous, but gentle, so gentle I thought it was a breeze that touched me when he fixed my hand. 

"Bilbo, he's strong, smart, cunning, and beautiful. I just want him to not suffer anymore. It breaks my heart to see him suffer."

"He tries to hold up the world when he doesn't even have his footing." Bilbo said. 

"That's a dwarven proverb." Erlen looked up, surprised.

"I was loved by a dwarf once. He convinced me that I was his One. That that is what I was feeling for him too. But it was all a lie." Bilbo dropped her hand and picked up her daughter, getting ready for bed. "He told me about his people, your people, dwarves, at night, when he would hold me and whisper love into my ear. But I know what it is now. It was nothing but poison. And he hurt me, most of all he hurt his own nephew. I hate him now."

But Bilbo couldn't even believe herself. 

"You were in love with Fili's uncle?" Erlen asked quietly, not really needing or expecting an answer. Leaving the question to be happily unanswered. 

"All I can say is," Bilbo changed topics, "don't give up on him. He's already coming around. If your intentions are true, don't let up. Let up and you give him enough time to think himself out of possibly finding love again." 

Bilbo understood why Fili didn't want to open up to another again. It was truly sad to see. Erlen wasn't the only one hurting from Fili's suffering. And here she thought she was the one in pain. 

\--

Fili ran into Erlen on his way to Bilbo's room. He was just leaving his aunts room when Fili turned the corner. "Erlen."

"Fili." Erlen looked like he was caught with his hand in a biscuit jar. Dwalin had perfected that look so well Fili laughed at the similarities. He could almost see the captain of the guard with his meaty hand stuck in his husband's dessert jar. Nori had conked him over the head plenty enough times that Fili thought there was a permanent bump there. 

"Did you give Bilbo the elk tooth bracelet?" Fili asked, stifling his laughter as much as he could. Erlen looked at him with those wide, gold eyes and Fili thought he lost his breath he was so dizzy. They both blushed and looked away. 

"Aye. Nirin loved it. She's getting bigger already."

"Heh, and it's only been a few days since we got here."

"Seems like a lifetime already."

"It does." 

"..."

"..." 

Both boys got quiet again, filling up the hallway. Fili felt something stir in his chest, thumping heavily against his ribs. He took a full breath and exhaled quickly, wondering what that was. He could feel something stir, something he wanted to refuse was there but it was getting harder and harder the more he got to know this dwarf. 

"The poultice is sitting in your room. There's hot water cooling in the basin already, make sure you use all the leaves. Don't let any into your wound or you could be poisoned. And I don't have the herbs or tools to help with that. So be careful."

"I will, thank you, Fili." Erlen winced, imagining what type of tools he used for poison in the veins. He looked at Fili even if the blond couldn't lift his gaze from the other dwarf's boots. Fili, even if he was avoiding eye contact, let his gaze follow those muscles from calf to thigh, from hip to torso, from a fully formed chest to those huge arms. Those arms, what would they look like, as a body prison, holding him down while he thrust into Fili? Drawing out the most pitifully fulfilling moans from him. 

He could almost feel what it was like, having a cock thrusting inside of him again, rubbing against his pleasure spot, making him come, over, and over again. He wondered what Erlen's stamina was like, if his orgasm sounded like the bear he seemed, or if it was quiet and suckling, or maybe he was a biter? Would he leave love bruises on the blonds skin? Would he grip his hips just right when he pounded him from behind? Would he have him up against the wall, legs wrapped around his hips? Would he slam into him, almost bruising his insides? Or would he stroke him, love him, gentle and firm? It was driving Fili insane not to be able to find out

_Stop it._

_Control._

_Breathe._

_He'll only use you._

"Bilbo still awake?" He didn't acknowledge the gratitude and tried to walk right past the other dwarf, only to be crowded against a raised pillar. 

"Fili." Erlen said, he wanted to say more. To confess even more. Sing praises about his beauty, his strength, his wit, his ability to mix herbs, his love for his son. But he didn't. He didn't want to force Fili into anything. He was afraid of pushing the smaller, but definitely capable dwarf, into another corner where all he'd be able to do is lash out again. But oh, he wanted to kiss those red lips. Those lips he burned on his dinner earlier tonight, those lips that he bit in concentration, those lips that had been worried into becoming swollen. They were plump and waiting to be kissed. 

But despite what Fili said about him, he did know propriety, honour, decorum, it just flew out of his head the moment he met this aggravatingly oblivious dwarf.

"Good night." Erlen said gently, as he would to a startled animal, and took his leave abruptly. 

Erlen didn't wait at his door to hear Fili enter Bilbo's room without reciprocating the farewell. He didn't watch Fili, standing in the hallway with a frown between his eyebrows, fist his hair and pull at his beard. He didn't listen for Fili's voice asking for permission to enter the hobbit's room. And he certainly didn't look over to Fili's open door, where Eruil was sleeping in his bed, pillows propped to ensure he didn't roll off or was rolled on in the night. Fili must not use any of the pillows, instead, using them for the protection of his son. 

Erlen chuckled at Fili's devotion to family. If what Bilbo said was true, about his fierce love for his family, it would definitely explain why he felt the way he did. If his own uncle had disowned him, if his brother, whom he wanted to have as a lover, abandoned him for another. There was no doubt as to why he tried to make up for his own viewed failings, he was trying to jealously guard what he had left.

\--

"Bilbo? Are you awake?" Fili knocked on the door. The rapping echoed quietly in the now empty hall. Fili pretended that he didn't see Erlen watching him from down the hall, he also pretended that he wasn't waiting for the dwarf to charge at him and force him to open up. Heart, mind, body, legs. But Erlen didn't. He only looked into his bedroom where Eruil slept and quietly made his way into his own room. 

"Fili?" Bilbo opened the door, Nirin was in her arms, sleep clothes on both the females already. "Come on in. Come on in, lad."

She ushered the frustrated dwarf in and watched him flop on her turned down bed. 

"I can't stop thinking of him, aunt!" Fili yelled around his forearm. He stuffed his bare skin in his mouth to keep himself from being too loud, but being able to yell helped. A little. "I can't stop thinking of that dwarrow! Why did he say those things? Oh, Bilbo, he confessed to me today before lunch. ('I know.' she said) But how did you know? ('I could see it', she smiled) Oh! Bilbo, I'm having the hardest of time trying to figure him out. Does he only want what I can give him? Or does he really want me? I don't think I can love any one yet. But I can't stop thinking of him. Of the possibilities of what he could make me feel. 

"I can't stop thinking of how all the different ways he could take me."

Fili blushed at that, hid his face in her pillows and screamed again. "What do I do?"

"I can't tell you what to do, lad."

"That's what Erska said, too." Fili put the pillow down and sat up with hunched shoulders and steepled fingers hanging between his knees. Frustration clear on his face and in his shoulders. His tunic was left untied at the throat, exposing collar bone and chest hair. Bilbo wonders how the exchange between the two went in the hall. 

"You've already talked to Erksa?" Bilbo inquired, rocking her sleeping child.

"Well, she said that on the first day. When I wouldn't go to bed, after Eruil had been named. I was so distraught about being reminded of what I had to leave behind, and what had been thrust upon me." Fili flinched at the word 'thrust', he was getting randy at the thoughts of having sex with Erlen from earlier. He was a male, after all, and he needed those releases. 

"Well as far as your confusion with Erlen is concerned. What I want to know is, how could you want to think about having a relationship with the dwarrow when all you two did was fight. You're bruises aren't even healed completely and you want to know if you'll be safe enough to... what? Get off with him?" Bilbo asked boldly. A hobbit would never, _ever_ speak like that. But she was learning with the dwarves.

"Get off with him? I don't know. I think about sex, as much as the next person does I suppose. But with him, his bulk. Bilbo I'm entranced by him, and I haven't a reason why. He's brash, boorish even, inconsiderate at times and over attentive at others, he watches me all the time. I can't stand the attention. I'm worried he only want's what I can provide him for a night and not concerned about what we could have in the long term."

He was speaking Bilbo's own fears as far as she was concerned about his uncle now. She is afraid that that was all she meant to the king. As a claim. Where her head and heart wanted to agree, even they were having troubles accepting it. 

"Fili, lad. I really would like to know if being this abusive towards another is the usual. We hobbits never physically fight as much as the king and I have, nor, even, as much as you and Erlen. I guess, what I really want to know is, do you feel safe with him?"

And that was the question, wasn't it. Does he feel safe? Did she feel safe with his uncle? Was that the reason why she was able to forgive him time and time again? That couldn't have been all. 

"I feel safe with him, yes. But we aren't the type to constantly fight the way we do. I can't decide to punch him or let him fuck me half the time. And the other half of the time I just like watching what he does to my son, what he does for my son. Maybe I'm the one who always starts the fight's, but can you blame me?"

"No, I can't Fili. But if it's not natural to fight so much, then start with not fighting at all. Take your time to think of what he's trying to say and do, before you react. Let yourself think of what he really means, but don't think too much, I've warned you against that." Fili laughs here. "You can't control the dwarf. No matter how much you control the rest of your life. Let him be who he is, and he might surprise you at his own true feelings."

"Why? What did he say to you?" Fili wondered quietly, as if he were afraid of what he gleaned to her.

"That's not my secret of the heart to tell. If you really want to find out," she pulled him up and started pushing him out of her room with one hand, "then let him show you. But start with not fighting first, hey?"

"I suppose, I owe him that at least." Fili agreed. Before closing the door Bilbo gave one last bit of advice.

"Apologize to him too. Do that before you go to bed. Knock on the door, wake him up if you have to, and apologize." Bilbo's rosy cheeks and sly smile was the last thing Fili saw before she closed the door.

Fili breathed slowly. Did he really have to? It wasn't his fault. It wasn't. Erlen had started it all... hadn't he? The blond went back through all of their encounters the past few days since meeting, sure there were some pretty offensive things said by Erlen, but Fili was the first to attack. And, if the exiled prince was honest with himself, Erlen was only defending himself, his own family, his own pride, when attacked by Fili. And the Northerner certainly wouldn't know about the subtle nuances of the Southerners. So Erlen wasn't completely to blame. 

But it was easier to blame him.

Fili found himself in front of Erlen's room, wanting to listen to Bilbo's advice rather than face her wrath in the morning. 

He was about to knock on the door when he realized it was slightly open. A ploy to listen to when Fili went to bed? An attempt to better listen to Bilbo and his conversation? Fili's blood began to boil again. But he stood there to let it simmer and loose steam before knocking lightly on the door. He could hear fumbling, a clatter of something heavy, and Erlen's light footsteps across the rug. 

"Fili." Erlen looked surprised, disheveled, and slightly out of breathe. Fili knew the smell of arousal. Knew the blush of cheeks and the quick succession of the rise and fall of chest that he knew Erlen was trying to have a personal time.

"I'm sorry, I- erm-" Fili couldn't escape fast enough. Why did he leave the door open if he was going to masturbate. Was he waiting for Fili to- _Stop it! Take your time, it might be nothing._

"No it's fine. I was only training since I couldn't work this afternoon. What did you want?" Some how, Erlen made it sound as if it were an actual inquiry rather than a stab at the impropriety of dwarves. 

Fili peered into the room and saw added rugs on the floor, a battle axe on the floor and... maybe it wasn't what he thought. "Oh, well. Ehem, I just wanted to apologize. For everything I've done against you. You were right. I should have apologized last night, I was just. Well. I'm sorry."

Erlen stood there, door wide open, arousal in his breeches, _Fili, stop it!_. Fili wanted to do something that he knew he would regret. So instead of acting it, or walking away like a coward, he stood his ground and demanded an explanation for his open door. 

"I knew you were talking to Bilbo, so I wanted to keep an ear out for Eruil just in case he woke up." Erlen explained, standing back to lean and wide shoulder against the open door. Fili watched the muscles move under the light tunic and he swallowed. He was certainly overthinking too much, or his own suspicious nature from being a watcher, if he thought Erlen wasn't anything but attentive to his son. Fili wanted to pull on his beard.

"That was it. The only reason?" Fili pressed. 

"Yes, I didn't want anything happening to him." Erlen stuck to it. His face was open to read and with Fili proactively trying to give the other dwarf the benefit of the doubt, he could see just how handsome the bigger dwarf was, and truthful. 

"Thank you." Fili said tensely before turning on point and walking across the hall to go to bed. 

"Is that all you need of me, Fili?" Erlen asked. Fili didn't think of what he wanted to say and stuck to what he assumed will become his automatic reply.

"For now, thank you, Erlen."

The boys closed their doors and found sleep. But not before finding privacy and pleasure at the thought of the other dwarf just across the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> menech - (Salish-Native American) shit  
> Valaraukar - another word for Balrog, Maiar who were seduced by Vala Malkor (think of him as Lucifer) to do his bidding.
> 
> Salish is my Native American language, though not my first language, it is defiantly a part of my everyday speech. The elk tooth bracelet is also something that my people do. Children are given it when they are born and teeth on it and play with it when traveling or need to be soothed without nook or bottle. I've never heard of any child actually choking though the length is kinda long (no longer than two inches). Some people still have their elk tooth and pass it on to their children. 
> 
> Expect more Salish in lieu of mashing khuzdul that I don't know. Our languages are close enough because they're guttural and have soft words too.


	9. Starlight and Obsidian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli can't help but want, to need, and Erlen can't help but give.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More tags. Please read because it get's a little dark.

He felt terrible for taking a personal time away from his son. But he kept a careful ear out for any sound from the adjoining room.

After talking with Erlen, after witnessing his _dwarrowness_ , Fíli couldn't help but wonder. Clothes still on he dragged his splayed hands over his chest, down his abdomen and back up. His other hand went down his side and over the rise of his thigh. Fíli tried to remember what made him feel good. But three images blossomed behind his eyes. Two he's had before, one fierce and passionate, the other a ghostly whisper of caressing but with an ashy taste of lust. The last, was a blazing summer sunset, comforting, distant, beautiful and quiet. No, not quiet. Serene. Peaceful.

Fíli rubbed his calloused hand at his neck, trying to find that point, that place that made his knees buckle. He tried wrapping his other arm around his middle, mocking a caress. And he imagined those broad hands splaying over his body, covering and protecting him.

He shuddered when he found that place on his neck. He pinched, rubbed and pulled at that place, wishing a sweet mouth could be latched there. He tossed his head back and forced out a groan, trying to get his blood to start flowing. He could feel the star glazed stare form the elf. It was a harsh, cold brand but it had lit his veins on fire from the intensity and focus. He tried imagining what both males would do to him.

One would grip him by the inside of his elbows from behind, pulling back and leaving him exposed. With his chest open and bare, from between his legs the other would caress his chest, roll against hips, and press asphyxiating kisses on him. A blazing fire left by touch, a smoldering heat lit in his groin, spreading flames in his gut. Legs would be shaking as he was ravaged by these two beings. 

Starlight and Obsidian, they would make him choose, make him squirm and gasp and scream and plead. They would make him their sole attention vying for his acceptance. Fingers would race to please, to fill him and stretch him. They would rub him and kiss him on places other than his lips. They would grip his hardened flesh just to hear him gasp. Together they would caress and bruise, ignite and smother. 

It began being too much, Fíli felt his fingers inside of him. Four fingers, digging and pumping, Fíli let out a gasp as he stroked his swollen member at the same pace as his other hand. Fíli tried to see those startling eyes of his previous lovers, but gold swam in his vision. Then, suddenly he could feel those broad arms locking around his middle and pulling him against his broader chest. 

Fíli sighed, lifting up a leg on a trunk, he was able to get the right angle now. He pushed in deeper, moaning louder, he twisted his wrist, foreskin rubbing around the crown. “Pretty dwarf.” Fíli heard in his ears, the imagination taking a corporeal turn. “Fíli,” he moaned again forcing his hand deeper. “Why are you holding back?” a voice from the past taunted him. “You could belong to me,” another called. Fíli pitched forward, his chest pressed against the trunk, legs threatening to buckle below him.  


“ _Nadad_ , rules only keep us, I want to break you.” “Fear me.” “I love you.” “Love me.” “I'm yours, Fee.” The blond sobbed. He gripped his cock tighter. “Be mine.” “No one can touch us.” “I'll give you everything you've ever wanted.”

The blond dwarf bucked and moaned at his self pleasure. He bit his bottom lip. He was deliciously on the edge. That high of teetering on it, of wondering what would finally push him over.

Thick arms came around him, imprisoning him, hand slammed on the trunk. Fíli gasped as he recognized the bronzed arms. Veins pulsed just under the skin. Beaded ropes created a bloody waterfall, trapping him in, no, not trapping, concealing him.

“Remove your hand.” A simple enough command (request), but Fíli tried to fight back, again. He tried to push up with his feet, back colliding with that chest, that wall of a dwarf. Fíli fell back on the trunk, groaning at his defeat.

He removed his knuckle deep fingers and felt Erlen prodding, hips flexing like a beast, trying to find his stretched hole. Fíli panted, waiting for Erlen to find him. The dwarf's cock head caught the furrows of his hole, poking and causing Fíli to jump at the surprise. He heard (felt) Erlen growl. He pumped his hips again, he caught it this time, cock sliding in, Fíli thought he could feel pre-come slick his way.

He groaned at the sensation of being filled, hips undulating behind him, gruff voice huffing against the back of his exposed neck. It was deep, he was wide. Erlen was draped over him like a fire warmed tapestry. Heavy, concealing, comfortable and gentle. Fíli felt himself relax, head falling forward, he let out a long, satisfying moan.

Hips pumped into him, flesh on flesh he felt his rump shake with the force of Erlen. The larger dwarf remained around him, covering him, protecting him. Fíli lifted his head to release a moan, Erlen's head beside him, nuzzling his cheek and neck, licking his ear. Fíli had never felt so good, so protected, so... cared for. The pace was quick, but the motions were gentle, loving, receptive in it's giving. Erlen licked at the sweat traveling down his neck, another groan released from Fíli's red lips. 

A white hot coil of desire tightened inside of Fíli. Erlen began huffing even more, gentle nips at his shoulder, arms shaking around him, hair singing praise with their bells. The slap of flesh echoed within the privy, Fíli's nipples tingled with their tightness, cock and balls swinging, pre-come drizzling on the floor. Erlen grunted and came with an explosive burst. Hips dug into the blonde, Fíli milking with his quivering hole. Fíli gasped, trying to catch his breath, heated moans against his shoulder. “Is that all you need of me, Fíli?”

Fíli laughed, he pulled his fingers out, his hold greedy and trying to pull him back in. His hips jerked forward, his body too sensitive. He looked down on the mess he'd made and grunted his displeasure. He was exhausted now, body shivering and legs unstable, and he had to deal with cleaning himself and the floor.

He hated how needy he was, how dependent he still was. He'd imagined being protected, like a useless child, by Erlen. Of how, with the dwarf's bulk, he could feel safe, enclosed, guarded and protected. The blonde scoffed at the idea. He was a prince, and exile prince, young in his non-existent crown, but a prince nonetheless. He was also Night Watch, and a high ranking one at that. He was independent, strong, and didn't need protecting.

That's what he was for.

 

–

 

Fíli remembers falling asleep, bone tired, cleaned, and grudgingly satiated. When he woke up he was angry, touchy and wanted any reason to fight. He clothed his son and entered the kitchen, growling out a 'Good Morning'. Fíli almost stumbled at Erlen's glowing face, wondering how he was able to have a good night. 

Staying up late to service himself then trying to deal with a teething and weaning son in the middle of the night, THEN, having to see the object of his nighttime fascination. His eyes seemed brighter, his skin healthier, his posture straighter, all but bursting with energy. And it unnerved Fíli. He reigned in his anger, not able to blame the dwarf for his own emotions.

“Hey, good morning little tyke!” Eruil squealed at the red-head, bouncing in his papa's arms. “Oh, your papa is grouchy today isn't he?”

“Argh,” Fíli collapsed on the tble, directing his annoyance at the table. Forehead, meet Table. Table, Forehead. “Couldn't sleep.”

“Yes, not with all that moaning around. I don't think any of us got any sleep.” Erska complained. 

Fíli's head shot up, red faced with embarrassment. 

“I slept well.” Erlen cooed at Eruil above his head.

“Of course  _you_ did. I had to listen to my own nephew-”

“Alright, enough! I'm sorry!” Fíli hid his face in his arms, sulking like a child. Erskin looked around, waiting to be included, his mother's 'Not for children' comment upsetting him.

“It's fine, Fíli.” Erlen said, leaning towards him. “It's nothing to be ashamed of. Your still young. Your a dwarrow, you need-”

“If you finish that sentence I will poison you. You know I can.” Fíli pointed an threatening finger at the dwarf.

Erlen seemed to shrink, abashed, and hid behind the child. Fíli felt even more irritated since the whole house heard him, except Erskin.

Speaking of, Fíli got the impression the young one had slept at the foot of Fíli's bed at some point in the night. His feet tickled with sleep when he woke to give Erlen his poultice.

“And what do you mean I'm young?” Fíli plated up breakfast for he and Erlen without thinking. “How old are you?”

Erlen accepted the food and gave Eruil the heel of his bread piece. The little elven dwarf sucked and gnawed at it, sitting on one of Erlen's legs. "Eleventy-two, early summer." 

“Yavanna's Garden, you're that old?” Bilbo asked.

“Why, how old are you?” Erlen asked, his mother's bread roll smacking him on his forehead.

“Never ask a woman her age. It's impolite.” Erska huffed and shifted Nirin on her lap, the lass giggling, Bilbo agreeing with a stiff nod.

“Fine, Fíli?” Erlen asked, the blonde watched how Erlen's neck flexed with a twist of head. Mouth dry, he licked his lips and swallowed.

Fíli took a couple of bites of food before answering. 

“Ninety-one.”

“Not too young, then.” Erlen said appraisingly. He gave Fíli a heated look.

The blonde shifted in his seat, adjusting his britches. He cleared his throat and finished his food, stood and gently backhanded Erlen's hunched shoulders.

“Ass.” Fíli grumped out and flew down the stairs. His heart was beating erratically and he felt out of breath. He almost forgot to pull up his kerchief before descending to the dirty stocks floor.

Fíli looked around, pens in front of him, stacks of bundled hay at one corner, tools at the other. They were all too open and exposed, he thought of the grated slope that led to the fields when the snows melt. He made a bee line for it, resisting on gripping his front.

Aggravating, it was all aggravating how easily he was wound up by Erlen. Him and his big muscled, big hands, lengths of exotic hair, shinning eyes.

The exiled prince almost groaned at remembering that heated stare at the breakfast table. His libido was overflowing. The dwarf found a secure enough place and began unlacing his breeches. He felt like he was in the same position as last night. Britches around his ankles he began striping his erection, trying to get off as quickly as he could before Erlen showed up.

He wondered why he felt so incredibly randy, needing, wanting to come. He felt like he could jump Erlen's bones and ride him to completion. To feel his seed filling him... breeding him.

Fíli choked when he felt foreign hands on his wrists. 

“May I?” Erlen's thick, heady voice shook his core. He could feel a familiar tug deep down inside.

After copulating with Thranduil, Fíli realized it was his womb shuttering, signaling it's ability to receive more seed. He didn't bleed like dwarrowdams, other unpleasant things happened to carriers he'd rather not discuss. The hot flashes, sweating, increased libido, dizziness, aggressive attitudes (some even have claimed to be territorial to their spouses or domiciles), constriction of the abdomen, increased appetite, and a desperate, animalistic need to be claimed were enough.

“No.” Fíli gasped, fearful, “Don't touch me. Don't-”

Fíli groaned, feeling as if he were on that edge again. Vaguely he felt Erlen release him and step back. Fíli tasted the sweat stained cotton in his mouth. Hips bucked, wanting to release.

“Don't, no. -Erlen, please.- No, ugh, stop.” Fíli didn't know who he was talking to. He wanted to stop, but he couldn't. It was completely improper, striping himself in front of another. “Erlen, please. Please, Erlen.”

Fíli repeated himself again before he felt those enveloping arms around his body. He sighed, relaxed in an instant, and allowed Erlen to take hold of him. He writhed in Erlen's arms wantonly, he gripped thick forearms and thrust his hips.

“I'm sorry. I'll – ugh, ah! - hate. You. After-after this.” Fíli knew he would. When he would finally be able to come down he would hate Erlen for being so good  _for_ him.

“It's fine, Fíli.” Erlen grunted when Fíli's hips made contact with his front. “That's what I'm here for. I can take it. Hate me. Poison me. Punch me. Use me, I can take it. I was made for you.”

Fíli sobbed, he buck and he sobbed. Sex with Thranduil hadn't hurt as much as this. Knowing Erlen would sacrifice his own comfort for Fíli. It was wrong. That was his job, that's what he was there for. To protect others, to be there for them, no matter what. But Erlen was showing how much Fíli wanted to be protected too.

“Let me, Fíli, let me help you.” Erlen huffed, kissing the tendon on Fíli's neck. Fíli sobbed some more, clutching onto the larger dwarf as he worked his prick. He threw his head back and gave a choked groan, feeling his head back and gave a choked groan, feeling on edge, tiptoeing the cliff. “I've got you, love, I've got this.”

Erlen enveloped his whole being, physically and metaphorically. Fíli came with a shout, stripes of semen shooting out of his prick. Before he could even begin coming down from his climax, he pushed at Erlen's iron strong embrace.

“Let me go. Letmego.” Fíli almost began to panic. Mind colliding with his actual wants and needs. Fíli wished he could feel dirty, feel like he'd been forced to do this, but he didn't. He only felt partially complete and not satiated enough. “Don't touch me, please, Erlen, please. I'm sorry.”

He redressed and shoved the red-head away. He ran all the way to his room, not stopping at the questions of Bilbo and Erska. He jumped over the children and ran down the hall. He knocked into Erskin who was coming out of the privy. He pushed him over out of reflex, and the discordant violin string taught cry of pain and surprise tore at Fíli's center.

A monster. He was a monster. All he did was cause pain. His father, mother, uncle, brother, Bilbo (his son and cousin he was sure on some level), and now the red-headed brothers in one way and another. Erskin cried, a butchering sound, hollow, loud, grainy and painful. Tears flowed freely from the dwarflings eyes, mouth wide in agony. Fíli felt his parental instincts kick in, he wanted to comfort and coddle the awkwardly screaming child, but he heard Erlen running up the stairs and Erska “Mama Bear” rushing to help. He panicked and left the poor child in the hall.

He slammed the door before Erlen could stop it.

“Fíl-”

“No!” Fíli slammed the door closed and locked it tight.

“Fíli, love, please.” Erlen begged, voice strained. Erskin's screaming muffled now.

“You think I'm opening the door now!? Fuck off, Erlen.”

“Fíli.”

“No!”

“We need to talk. Or I'll just listen if you want.” Erlen pleaded.

Fíli collapsed, his hormones running high at his male version of his moon phase. He sobbed, not a pretty sound, hiccuped painfully as he tried to quieten himself. Fist to teeth he bit down to keep himself from making a sound.

“Fíli,  _âzyungel_ , please.” Erlen kept at it, softer now. The common monicker didn't help Fíli's resolve. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry. Please, open the door, Fíli, please.”

“Go away!” Voice wailing in his dark room, throat feeling like he swallowed broken glass.

“I'm not going anywhere, Fíli. I'm here, for as long as I'm breathing, I'm here. I'll never leave you, I love you.”

“No, you don't. You can't.” Fíli was pleading now, wanting it to be a lie, to be a truth. If it was a lie, he could go back to being frigid, to not allowing anyone to take up that special place in his heart that was left black and barren at loss. He could go back to being angry if it was a lie.

But if he was telling the truth, well, he wouldn't survive it. How could anyone so kind, so strong, so handsome want to spend his life for such a damaged person? His soul was bruised, bloodied, dark, and weak. How could anyone want that type of partner?

“Go away.” He tried one more time.”

“I'm sorry I did that. I'm sorry I took from you like that.”  _What?_ He  _took?_ “After that elf, I shouldn't have.”  _That doesn't matter. I don't care about that._ “But I wanted you badly.”  _Impossible_ . “I love you.”  _Liar._ “Fíli, please.”  _Stop it. Stop hurting me._ “I'm sorry.”  _stop._ “But I'm not going anywhere.”  _Don't! Don't abandon me too!_

 

–

 

Fíli doesn't remember when he fell asleep, but he could smell his aunt's sweet biscuits through the door. He rubbed at his stinging eyes and quietly cleared his throat, afraid Erlen was still on the other side of the door waiting.

Fíli rolled onto his knees, legs stiff and asleep, and peeked through the floor gap of the door. He could see Erlen propped on the other side of the hall, sleeping. The southern dwarf exhaled, confident in being able to escape his guardsman. He stood, holding onto the wall till the painful pinpricks in his legs were gone. The door opened silently and Fíli slipped out, he looked at the massive dwarf and his heart lurched at the sight.

The Northern dwarf had his arms folded, back against the wall, legs crossed at the ankles and his head lolling forward. But his eyes and cheeks were red, Fíli wanted to caress the stubbled cheek, gold and red hairs poking out. Fíli closed himself off and tread lightly down the hall.

He could hear talking and soft giggling in the sitting room, but Fíli went to the kitchen instead. There was still food left out, pork tenderloins in garlic, rosemary and cracked salt and pepper. There was florets of broccoli and roasted potatoes. Fíli's mouth watered at the small winter feast. How long into the day was it? Certainly he hand't slept all day. Or rather, cried.

Fíli spent most of his time in his room crying. Crying and cursing his luck, cursing Erlen, cursing everything that he wanted from the other dwarf. He didn't think it fair that this would be his fate. Exiled, away from his kin, without a crown, and without a real home (again). The silently mourning prince swept his hair out of his face as he ate as quickly as his clenching stomach allowed.

The food smelled great, but it was tasteless in his despair. Fíli sighed at his uselessness. Weeping like some dwarrowdam lass after a terrible night at the gala, lad running off with her best friend. Oh, wait, that actually happened. Fíli tossed his fork on his plate and groaned into his hands at the memory.

“Fíli, is that you?” he heard Bilbo beckon. He cursed his fate again, just as dramatic as ever, and pushed himself up. He dragged his feet through the hall and entered the sitting room. Curse his luck thrice for leaving his weapons, there was Night Watch in the sitting room.

“Fíli, this is Dagol, he’s from the Blue Mountains, same as you!” Bilbo said excitedly. “And his wife. Eikin, and their sons, Audún and Audain.”

“A pleasure!” Eikin said from the floor, playing with all three children, Nirin in her arms. Fíli clenched his fists; he let his face relax into a gentle smile despite his swollen eyes and red blotched cheeks. He looked around to the new dwarves. Dagol was a shorter, stout dwarf with black hair and white striped beard, Fíli could tell he had leathers underneath his simple peasant tunics. Eikin wore thick skirts and most likely breeches underneath for added warmth, there were knives she kept around her thighs, and her bodice hid stilettos. Audún and Audain shared their mothers’ red hair and green eyes, they were a handsome set, and their calluses suggested they were brawlers without a set skill of weapons.

The twins were standing next to the coat hooks near the entrance to the foyer, blocking an exit. Dagol sat next to Erska in a comfortable chair next to the fire, close to the pokers and flame. Eikin sat in front of Bilbo with the children, the threat obvious. But Erska didn’t see it and neither did Bilbo so it was left to him to get close enough to protect the children but still remain out of the threat range of quick knives; which is to say, in this small of space, impossible.

“A pleasure.” Fíli greeted back politely. “You’re from the Blue Mountains? I don’t recall you.”

And it was true, he didn’t. Though to be honest, he didn’t meet everyone who had ever lived there. He didn’t even know what his last neighbor’s name was. He hadn’t been home all too often back then, near the end and before the quest.

“Ah! I was a gem cutter, lost most of the feeling in me hands after a while.” Dagol said.

“Arthritis, though he’s ignoring the healer’s suggestions.” Eikin looked lovingly yet disappointed at her husband’s dismissal of his own health.

“I stayed home and took care of the boys until they reached majority. They were a troublesome pair growing up. You can imagine the chaos.” Eikin bid herself sympathies by Erska and Bilbo.

“Och, yes, my boys are a handful and they aren’t that close in age. Erlen’s one-hundred-twelve and Erskin over there is only forty-two next month.” Erska took a sip of her tea and another bite of Bilbo’s sweet biscuits.

“Yes, I remember when the boys were that age. Audún was always pulling at Audain’s hair, and ‘dain would bite ‘dún hard enough sometimes that he needed stitches.” Eikin looked to Fíli. “And what about your youngin’s? Are your twins always fighting?”

It was all wrong, the too-sweet voice that Eikin used, it was as if she were trying to entice a hart to get closer to the wolf. But the newcomers were a bit confused on who the true wolf was here. Fíli smiled and interrupted Bilbo before she could correct the new dwarrowdam.

“Yes, they’re a handful alright. Completely took me by surprise that I would bear two children rather than one.” Fíli took a seat on a stool from across Bilbo and Eikin. He slouched, playing on his exhaustion. Bilbo and Erska were about to say something before he continued. As arrogantly as possible he huffed and sighed, “Children are such a mess. I wish I’d never become pregnant. You can imagine how hard it was, especially after my husband died. But, well, the lay-about can’t tell me what to do anymore. So there is that.”

“You were married?” Dagol asked, looking sideways at Erska. Both Bilbo and Erska looked thoroughly confused.

“Aye, to a miner. A MINER!” Fili exploded from his stool, Eikin going for a knife on the front of her bodice, Dagol a throwing axe hidden at his hip and the twins took a wider stance, fists clenching at their sides. “Now I have nothing against miners, or those of lower class. But I couldn’t believe that my father set me up with another one of his friends – acquaintances really. I didn’t even know the dwarrow before we were taking out vows. Got me pregnant then got himself killed in that accident eight months ago. Came up here to get away from mum and dad, they were bitchin’ to me about everything under the sun.

“Nappie’s not tight enough, wrong softness of cloth, the child is chafing. Aye, I was married. And happy the sod is dead so that I could find as much peace as I could with these little beasties.”

The women were staring at Fíli, wide eyed and getting rather pissed looking. Eikin and Dagol looking a little floundered, trying to catch up. “Ah, yes, the accident. I couldn’t believe it. What a tragedy. I was at the healer’s when it happened. Got home just in time before the survivors started flooding in; terrible, terrible business. Lady Dís had done an excellent job at handling the situation. Then she got called out to Erebor after her brother, The King, had succeeded the mountain. There have been talk that her brat, can’t remember the boy’s name, got lost to the war. Thorin had to crown a new prince, little sopping head of a dwarf. Heard he got himself all the hurt after taking arrows. Those orcs are nasty creatures. Heard he whelped a litter of elven brats with that red-headed captain.

“Ugly little things, really. Can’t believe anyone would want to bed one of those tree shaggers.” A look was narrowed to Fíli. It was obviously bait. It was also obvious that they knew who Fíli really was, if they were trying to rile him up with false news of his brother. Or, it may not have been false. Fíli had kept his ears closed to all news of Erebor during the first months of exile. And war? Anything could have happened in that span of time.

Bilbo looked horribly offended, at Fíli and this dwarf. But he cut in again, waving his hand around. “Wouldn’t know the business of royals. Those little shits were horrible. I heard the older brother, what his name was I can’t remember, took on to beating those who threatened his family, even killing in some instances. Beastly little thing if ever I could recall.”

Fili leveled his own stare at Dagol, the dwarf didn’t shift in his chair, looking relaxed enough. Erska looked between Fili and the new dwarf. She sat up slowly and fixed her mug of tea, took a careful sip and looked over to Bilbo. The poor hobbit was gaping like a fish, and Fíli was nonplussed at her reaction.

“Bilbo,” Erska said sweetly, as she had been with these new dwarves, “Sweetheart why don’t we take Fíli’s children into the kitchen and let the men talk. Eikin would you like to join us?”

Eikin gripped Nirin a little tighter, the slight change causing Bilbo and Fíli to bristle. Dagol finally sat up out of his chair, “Why don’t we all just sit in here. It’s much warmer. We can talk in here.”

“I think I will retire for the night. I’ll take the little ones.” Bilbo looked to Fíli and shook her head in disbelief. Bilbo reached for _her_ daughter and Eikin held on. “I can take his children, it’s no problem.”

“Oh, dear, I’ve just gotten attached to this little one.” She kissed the black curls of Nirin’s head, looking over the infants crown to Fíli, “Why I just could keep her. But she could be mistaken easily for those of the royal line. Black hair and blue eyes, just like the king.”

Fíli cursed his lack of luck, he had nothing dependable to throw at the woman.

“Or… black hair like your brother. Fíli, The Exile.” The room was heavy with tension. Eikin cradled Fíli’s cousin, Bilbo’s movements frozen, and Erska and Dagol looking at each other and Fíli taking stock of everyone. They were all hanging on the ledge, anxious to move, to throw themselves at one another for an attack or protection of another. Erskin looked around; not knowing what was happening but noticing the tension otherwise. He held onto Eruil carefully, slowly, that Fíli barely realized that the kid was moving at all.

“You know.” Fíli stood up, walking over to the hearth. “They used to call me by another name, in the Blue Mountains. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it. They used to call me ‘Deathsong’.”

Fili leapt into action, and so did Bilbo. He trusted her to go after the children, leaving him to protect her back. Bilbo, thankfully, had taken to keeping something sharp on her person since her traveling. So with her paring knife she stabbed Eikin in the right shoulder where she dropped Nirin. Her daughter cried at the suddenness and Erskin picked her up struggling to hold on to Eruil as well.

Erska broke her mug around Dagol’s head, he grunted and took his throwing axe to her, but Fíli was already on him. He grappled the dwarrow from behind and jerked him out of the chair. The twins by the door kept their post, but had slender knives in their hands. Erska went to kick the dwarrow in the chest and Fíli rolled them out of the way – Erska and her family didn’t know that Fíli had tender lungs. Dagol taking the hit from Erska’s boot would send Fíli into coughing fits from the position he had on the other dwarf. He couldn’t allow that to happen.

Behind him Fíli could hear Bilbo and Eikin struggling, Nirin still crying causing his own son to do the same. He couldn’t be distracted, if he wanted to save them all, he couldn’t let his breeder’s instincts take hold. Instead he felt around the other dwarfs’ tunics, a knife, axe, any sort of weapon he could use against him.

“Get the kids.” Fíli said to Erska, who took off as quick as lightning, one of the twins following her.

Fili found the knife just in time. He gripped it and let it sing through the air, his flick of the wrist made the knife sink deep into the dwarrows’ stomach.

“Audain!” The other brother yelled, but kept his ground – a dedicated watcher, but a terrible brother.

The red haired lad – even though he appeared older than Fíli, parenthood made everyone children – dropped to his knees, gripping at his bleeding side. He grunted and growled as he pulled the knife out. Fíli smiled and went about protecting his sides from the sharp elbows of Dagol, Audain would bleed out in minutes, and too much blood loss in the span of seconds afforded Fíli the time to figure out how to grapple the dwarrow in his hold better.

Fíli heard Bilbo grunt and cry out, a thump making him believe that she hit her head on the chair or stool. He hoped Erska had the children. The blond struggled with the one dwarf, watching another bleed out while his brother looked on. Really, a terrible sibling. Then, he saw the shadow of Eikin make her way over to him. He grunted when a blow caught his temple. His head snapped back and bounced off the flagstone.

Dagol was released, coughing from asphyxiation, Audain passed out and dead in another minute, Eikin above the struggling blond.

“You should have known. _Your Highness_ , that we would have found you. No matter the training you’ve had in your coddled and spoilt life, you can never come up against the Night Watch.” Eikin droned on. She walked her way around Fíli, who was desperately trying to shake his head of the blackness threatening to take him under. She lifted her boot one more time before Fíli heard the bear. _Erlen._

She was tackled from behind, but instead of falling to the ground over a coughing Dagol and slightly confused Fíli, he lifted her up and squeezed her. The blond southerner heard her scream, choke, and scream a little more before he heard the bone crunch of a spine. She didn’t stop screaming, gasping now they both realized that she was paralyzed. Fíli was tackled too, by Dagol, who was still wheezing.

The blond dwarf, tried not to move his head too much – a useless gesture – and fought back. He was now able to get to some of his weapons on his belt just underneath his tunic. Fíli took out his razors and began slashing at Dagol’s forearms. But there was leather protection there too. So he switched tactics while Audún and Erlen were grappling. Getting his feet underneath him he yelled and let all of his energy expel from his legs. The upward motion caused him to land on Dagol and released Fíli at the same time. There was a cough underneath Fíli, but he didn’t care either way.

Rolling off, Fíli went to the coat hooks along the edge of the sitting room. Sure enough, there were weapons within their packs. They were Night Watch, there would be weapons.

He grabbed a few swords that were still sheathed and thanked his lucky forges (finally) that they were properly weighted and made of good dwarvish steel. He swung the swords to get a better feel for them before coming up against Dagol, who had a mace. Well, let’s make this easy then, shall we?

“What do you got, Brother Fucker?” Dagol taunted.

“I’m going to show you why my guild calls me Deathsong.” Fíli rolled his shoulders back, getting as loose as he dared before executing.

“Your guild?” Dagol looked confused.

“You didn’t think you were the _only_ Watcher’s in the North did you?” Fíli lifted both his arms, hands going behind his left shoulder. He was silent. He was a dancer with Death. And he had his target.

He pulled his arms, like a whip, back over his shoulder and released his swords. They were a little longer than what he was used to, but the weight was the same. His gentle flick of the wrists made the blades sing in the air as they sailed towards his target. He chased his blades across the room, pinpoint focus on his mark.

The first blade was knocked away by Dagol’s mace, the second slipped in between ribs on the dwarrows exposed side. Fíli kept charging, there were death rattles and pink foam at the dwarrows’ mouth, a sign that Fíli didn’t really have to do any more than watch the man die. But that’s not why they called him Deathsong.

Fíli gripped the sword between ribs, followed the bone lines and pushing through sternum and cutting through organs, Fili pulled the sword free, creating two dwarves from one. The tip of the blade caught just right on the last bit of bone and the steel rang.

Deathsong.

He had earned his name after he found that flick of the wrist that imbedded the blade deep within his mark. Years of (constant) practice made it to where Fíli could get between ribs almost every time. The metal sang, and Fíli twirled on the spot, picked up the second blade, and let them sail again after calculating the two grappling dwarrows. They slid home and true.

Audún thrashed, fell backward, and took Erlen with him in his grip. The red-head looked down at the other dwarf in confusion. He saw the pool of blood underneath the dwarrow and found the source of it. Two points of swords stuck out from the dwarrows chest, it was a near thing that Erlen was pierced with it too. Wondering where it came from he looked up to find Fíli huffing, legs apart, fists at his side and the most fearsome look he’s ever seen on the Southerner. It would have caused him to shirk away from the younger dwarf but the blood matting against his head made him want to get to Fíli instead of running away.

“Are you alright?” The blonde asked Erlen. The larger dwarf couldn’t believe _he_ was asking this, here was Fíli, the dwarrow whom Erlen is finding out needs more protection than anything, and he was asking if _he_ was alright?

“You’re bleeding, Fíli.” Erlen got up and went to Fíli. The blond dwarf tried pushing him away when the woman, Eikin, began screaming again. This time it was choked sobs and pleas for her life and Erlen felt his heart constricted in sorrow. He’d used his strength to hurt someone after he’d promised his father he wouldn’t ever do it. He couldn’t use his strength to kill or hurt, only to protect. To keep those he loved safe, that was the only reason Mahal had given him his strength.

Fíli, shaking and a little loose limbed from his concussion (another one), pushed his nausea away and approached the dwarrowdam. He fished out another knife, flipped it through the air with practiced movements, and pinned her foot between the cracks of stone.

“I know you can’t feel that,” Fíli spoke with a haunting, hollow voice, “but I’ve just stabbed you through the foot. Don’t know if you want to pull it out by dragging yourself further. Or, perhaps, you could let me keep pinning you to the floor. Either way, I’ll get the information I want. Your calf is next.”

With that promise and little hesitation Fíli stuck her again, she kept screaming and sobbing, still trying to pull herself away. “What do you want!?”

“I want to know who marked us.” Fíli said, making obvious noises of dragging another blade out. The hardened leather made the blade sing.

“I-I don’t know. If you’re a Watcher then you know this!” Eikin sobbed some more, though not through pain, but through the visceral fear of Fíli. “They never tell us! Please, don’t kill me!”

Erlen sat on his haunches, sickened by what he was seeing.

He knew that there was an aggressive nature within Fíli. He’d felt the papas’ fist the first few moments of meeting another. But this, he didn’t think Fíli could be capable of this.

_“Erlen please. Please, Erlen.”_

Where was that fear? Where was that uncertainty, the blushing from embarrassment at breakfast? Where was the quiet, hardworking dwarf whom Erlen had known he loved?

Where was Fíli?

Because this dwarrow before him wasn’t that kind, attentive papa, or the aggressive culturally confused Southerner. This was a killer. Soaked and dyed in those colors through and through. This was a methodical, creative, evil killer of the Southern Night Watch. This wasn’t Fíli as he’d gotten to know him.

“You’re right.” Another knife, higher up her leg, “I do know they never tell you where the orders came from.” _Thunk,_ in her opposite foot. “What I want to know, are the exact orders.” _Thunk._

“P-please.”

“The orders.” _Thunk._ He was purposefully making them loud, making sure that she could hear the tearing of flesh and the knocking of bone and metal.

“He-he said: ‘Fíli, son of Dís, has been judged. They have ridden North, beyond the mountains. The Queen will thank ye.’ That’s all, I swear.” _Thunk. Scream._

“Oh… you have feeling there. I’m sorry.” Fíli retracted the blade after a twist. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You f-fucker!” Eikin drooled on the floor. Some of Dagol’s blood was soaking up her vambraces.

“Now, now, that’s no way to talk around children. They’re only down the hall.” Fíli straddled her from behind, lifting up her head and readying his blade for the slice of throat. His favored way to kill. Quick, bloody, and messy.

But then, he spotted one of Eruil’s abandoned toys. A crudely carved horse. There were little teeth marks over the flank of the wooden beast. It made Fíli’s blood boil, with fear and anger he thought of what they were about to do to the innocent. But the fear also came for something else.

This is where his child played. This was where his cousin crawls around, racing his son around the floor. This was where Erskin followed them, playful, engaging, laughing a crude cat’s giggle, screeches of ravens.

This was supposed to be a safe place for them, this house. The ice and snow was supposed to keep them safe from their southern pursuers. Fíli almost choked on the stench of death in the sitting room. Eruil’s toy dyed in the blood.

“Do it, Fíli.” Bilbo said from around the corner, a sniffling Nirin on her hip, head turned away and crooked in her mother’s full breasts. The hobbits' forehead had a bump, but she wasn't bleeding, thankfully. “You promised.”

And he did, didn’t he? He promised to protect their little family, to protect their children. He promised, that whatever had to be done to keep the pursuers down, he would do it. And this was going to happen. The slice of throat would come, even if he would weep at this one. His heart wasn’t protected as it usually was.

“Please! Please don’t kill me! PLEASE! I’M SORRY, PLEASE!”

“You would have killed them!” Fíli screamed over hers, his heart pounded so hard that it hardly gave room for his lungs. “You were going to kill my son and cousin! She’s not my daughter! YOU WERE GOING TO KILL THEM! And as PromiseKeeper I will keep that which I have sworn.”

Fíli growled the last few words out, forcing his heart to close off and turn to ice, just as his veins were. Eikin’s throat was split, a second smile underneath her chin. The force of it blunted his knife on bone. He’d never done that before. But it was satisfying, knowing that the last of their would-be killers were down. For good.

What didn’t feel good was the retching of Erlen behind him.

And here it was. The Test.

Would Erlen still want him? Would they be thrown out of another house? Another place where they tried to call home? Thrown out in the cold just as The King had done?

Fíli kept his head down, eyes hooded by his hair. The glow of the dying fire illuminated the room, casting silhouettes on the bodies around him. He sat in the pools of blood, on top of a dead dwarrowdam Watcher. A killer sitting among the killed.

This was what he was. Deep down, this is what he’d always been.

He’d killed his first victim when he was still a child. It wasn’t on his account, no. It was on his father’s.

Another miner, one who was supposed to be his father’s friend, was badmouthing him, just after he’d died in that rock slide in the Blue Mountains. He was saying it was his father’s fault for causing the slide, that if he’d had any stone-sense he would be able to tell it was an unstable shaft. Other words were thrown at his fathers’ grave with spittle and hate.

It was the first time he’d slit a throat. Especially against someone twice and a half his size. But Fíli hadn’t felt bad about the kill. He felt relieved, that he had the strength to take a life. It was also the same day that Dwalin took him to see his husband, Nori Lightfoot. It was the beginning of his training to become a Night Watch.

Sitting now, in this room of death and bodies, Fíli still couldn’t bring himself to care too much about the fallen. What he wanted to do was keep Erlen away from it all. Keep him away from him, because how could anyone love a killer? A monster? How could anyone want to love someone like Fíli?

 


	10. Doors Open Like Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Doors open like arms my love, painless with a great closeness..."
> 
> Taro by Alt+J ∆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VOTE NOW!: Half a chapter and art work? Or a full chapter and artwork later? Let's see what the Er' family looks like! Yes?

Fíli sat on top of the dwarrowdam, her body growing stiff beneath him. It was always a strange feeling he got after killing. There was a calming feeling with everything churning and boiling underneath the surface, like the undertows of a river, where it threatened to do him in. He was seeing everything around him, the pools of blood and the mounds of gore. The dead lay in the waning candlelight, the air was still, heavy and thin, and the slightest shift could cause some sort of downhill fall – one trip and you’re tumbling out of control in a mad dash toward the bottom.

Bilbo stood with Nirin at the opening of a hall that led to more guest rooms, he could hear a quiet and awkward stumbling of little feet. Fíli lifted his head from staring placidly at the mess in front of him and watched at Erskin came into the room carrying his son who fidgeted and was hiccuping from crying. The little golden gaze looked concerned as he stared at the blond. Shamed, Fíli dropped his gaze and didn’t make a move to pick up his son. How could he hold the lad when the sins he wore could stain even more of the little dwarf-elf? Thankfully Bilbo was able to take Eruil from the youngest Er’.

“Clean it up.” Came a cold and stern voice from the dark of the hall. Bilbo jumped and stiffened from her crouch and Erskin looked over her shoulder to his mother. Fíli wouldn’t pretend that he wasn’t afraid of the dwarrowdam, the living one, she alone held the power to kick them out. And they would find themselves trying to survive in the snow, again. “They don’t deserve a grave. Burn them outside.”

Still winded from fighting Fíli nodded, though he knew she couldn’t see him, and began to sheath his weapons and drop the inferior blades he borrowed. They clanged on the flagstone and out of the corner of his eye he saw Erlen flinch. His heart gave a nasty jolt in his chest as he saw the crumpled form of the large red-head. 

Palms up, legs folded, head and shoulders drooped, Erlen was kneeling and looking pale. Fíli kept his emotions in check, he wanted to reach out to the red-head, to apologize, to console, to yell at him just to get the larger dwarf moving. But he didn’t do any of those, instead he too dropped his shoulders.

“Erlen,” Erska continued, “come to me, my son.” 

She was reminding Fíli that she was the leader here and that she would protect her own family from any threat, and the southerner felt it. He knew better than to stir the pot in someone else’s territory. Before he was able to get up himself, little feet came into his view, he looked up and saw Erskin standing in front of him. He tensed and waited for the slap of a little hand or a hard punch, or even possibly a head-butt, or a bite to the nose. Anything the little one gave him he would accept as some sort of punishment. He lowered his lids knowing how hard it was to punish someone while looking into their eyes when suddenly he felt little arms wrap around his neck. He stiffened, not wanting to hurt the little dwarf. He could hear Erlen pausing from his standing up, he could feel the golden burn of a protective brother upon his back. Fíli was tense, statue still, and kept his hands on his lap. 

He was confused, at first, where the sound was coming from, when he realized it was coming from Erskin, he thought that the little one was crying, but he wasn’t. It wasn’t the discordant cries of crows, or the screeching of cats, it was melodic. Fíli barely realized that Erskin was humming a lullaby to him before he encircled the small body before him. The humming continued, it was soft, and beautiful and it was a salve to the darkened heart Fíli has learned to live with. He felt his cheeks get colder from being wet, his tears shed so easily with the gentleness of the child. He couldn’t tell, not really, but he knew the chest constricting of his own sobbing. He was wrecked by the kindness of this child.

When Erskin pulled away, he petted Fíli’s growing beard gently and smiled at him, his soft golden gaze similar to his older brother. He motioned the signs for **‘Thank You’** and placed his small hand over his heart then signed for the word **‘Good’**. 

Fíli nodded his head, unsure of what to else to do. He vainly wiped his eyes and attempted to stop sobbing. No one had ever thanked him before. Not for this. Dwalin would only give a fearful nod, Nori, an appraising one and others wouldn’t even acknowledge him. There were times when Fíli felt like a soldier for Manwe, killing and sending them to be judged. He felt as if he was a ghost, murdering and torturing and all that Fíli wished he wouldn’t have to do. But he’d had no choice in his youth. It was either accept the Watcher help and training or be arrested for murder. 

It wasn’t too hard to make that decision, but it was still a hard one when he had to be away from his family for so long. For a while, his mother assumed he was getting pissed at the tavern, his brother believed that he was avoiding (for as young as he was he could be a little hellion in his blaming). He had caught so much negativity from his family that when he finally was able to move back into the little shack of a house, if felt as if he were a stranger. The years he spent training with the Night Watch made it difficult to reconnect with his family. It didn’t help that when nadadith realized Fíli would be around more often, he began to let Fíli know, little by little, that he wanted to be more than brothers.

“Erskin! _Huish nxlaq Fíli_.” Erlen hissed at his little brother, even if he couldn’t hear the anger in his tone, Erskin understood the words which were signed behind Fíli’s back. 

Like lightning, Fíli stood up and away from Erskin, wanting to get enough space in between them. The fast movements though, worked against the blonde. Erlen reacted on instinct and came behind Fíli in a headlock, arms trapped above his head and the larger dwarrow’s hands weaved together behind his neck. With the slightest pressure from hands his neck could snap, if he flexed his arms, Fíli’s would dislocate. Bilbo shouted at Erlen and Fíli saw Erska move towards his aunt. 

He saw red.

Fíli flexed his hand behind his head, grabbed at the pressure point in one of the hands, squeezed harshly and bent the hand at the wrist to release him. He pushed his sharp hips back against Erlen’s groin, and pulled a knife from his pockets. He held it behind him where he knew Erlen would see it and freeze, another he pointed at Erska. The dwarrowdam had paused just behind Bilbo about ready to make a grab at her. Bilbo clutched the children to her and was shaking in fear. She dropped to her knees and pulled the children into her crouching in a protective gesture.

“Just in case you didn’t hear me, Erska,” Fíli lowered the second blade, the one pointed at Erska, and continued, “I keep the promise’s I make. And if you harm my family, I won’t hesitate to kill any who threaten them.”

Fresh tears made their way down his face. Erskin was frozen, not able to make head’s or tail’s about the current situation. Bilbo sniffed in fear on the floor, Erska looked like she could kill with her glare alone, and Erlen, well, best not to tempt the beast. The youngest Er’ looked back and forth between his mother and Fíli, who had a blade to his brother. His chest rose in fell in panic, eyes wide and glossy with tears. 

“Otherwise, I can be just as civil as the next dwarf.” He knew, he just knew that they couldn’t stay for much longer. In the north the winters were long and cold, even if he and Bilbo could survive the snow and ice the children wouldn’t. “All that I ask, My Lady, is shelter for a while longer. We can complete chores until the snow breaks. I have no reason to believe you would listen to our plea, but I make it just the same. I’m guilty of murder in my actions to protect my family.”

The threat hung in the air, there was no need to make the same statement over and over again. He could prove it with his blades. His vision began to blur with tears, though he wasn’t crying, so he didn’t see Erskin run up to him and start pounding fists on his thigh. He was grunting and crying, ugly sobs twisting out of an unheard throat. Fíli didn’t look down he didn’t tear his eyes away from Erska, who’s hands looked like they were willing to reach farther to choke Bilbo. 

“No, I heard you.” Erska dropped her hands, “I also heard you earlier, when you told them that they weren’t the only Watcher’s in the north. And isn’t that the truth.”

“I know of our origins. Coming up north to protect from the drakes and other threats, your people taught mine and we corrupted your art. For that I’m sorry. But make no mistake when I tell you that I’m the best in the south, and I hope that I don’t have to prove my worth here in the north again.” Fíli dropped his hand from Erlen, blades still out, Erskin still pounding on his thigh, then wrapping bodily around his leg. He didn’t realize that with the blades still out and so close to Erskin could be conceived as an even greater threat to both Erlen and Erska. “I’m a protector, I was born for it. And for that, _nshiyé i klawniiksukni_.”

And for that, I was banished. Cast from sight and from lineage. It was as much of a confession as Fíli was willing to give. The Watcher common tongue was the original language of the north and Fíli was confident that Erska would understand his words. 

“You were banished for that?” Erlen spoke from behind him. 

“Hadn’t we told you?” Fíli looked behind him, finally, at Erlen. He had to think quickly, “I’m a protector, I coulnd’t- I couldn’t get rid of my child. As soon as I found that I was pregnant, I prepared myself for the banishment. My uncle hate’s elves, and what my brother and I had allegedly done, were illegal. It would have happened either way. I’m used to being kicked in the dirt.”

Fíli sensed that his point had been put across and attempted to pry the little one off his leg. He patted the Erskin's roped hair, and then he tried petting him, talking in soothing tones, hoping he could feel the vibration in his body. Erlen looked like he wanted to intercede but with the blades still out and ready to be used, he didn’t move, watching Fíli’s hands carefully. Bilbo had made her way towards the fire, where she was closer to the poker and deposited the children in the large overstuffed chair. 

“Please, Erska. We aren’t bad. Fíli makes himself out to sound like a killer. It’s true that he’s killed. But he is a warrior, he’s had to kill people before. Man, elf, other dwarves, orc, and all manner of beasts. He’s kindhearted, you’ve seen it.” Bilbo pleaded with the older woman. Fíli worked at the still clutching Erskin. 

“What I’ve seen, is an overprotective breeder who’s beaten my eldest son for slights that could have been easily overlooked. What I’ve seen, Bilbo, is a dwarf who is willing to kill at a moment’s notice. And for whatever reason, he hasn’t killed us yet. But I’d be willing to bet he’d have no trouble doing it.” Erska glared over at Fíli again. “What I see is a killer, a murderer, and corruptor. What I see is a scared little dwarfling playing at swords. Dangerous and uncontrolled.”

Hands up, she walked slowly towards Fíli. “You’re right, Erska. I’d have no trouble killing. I’ve done it too many times before. But if I were uncontrolled, I wouldn’t have stopped with her.”

The woman who he was still straddling, the dwarrowdam who’d plead for her life and not for the return of her sons like a good mother, he was still standing over her with Erskin clutched to his leg like a red-headed parasite. Fíli truly would have no compunction to killing this family. He’d done it before, just minutes before. A whole family, twin sons, a mother and father, and he didn’t care. He’s killed people he’d known longer than the family of Er’. It wasn’t a completely foreign idea. The range of acceptance, guilt and blame varied after the kills though. 

This family, would destroy him if he’d had to kill them. But he still wouldn’t hesitate for the protection of his family. 

A knife made its way around his throat, the blade shining orange from the fire. So Erlen did keep blades on him. It shook, slightly, he’d never killed before. No wonder he took these killings and torture so hard. There was a threat, clear and plain as day. Three fingers lifted in both hands in surrender to his weapons, Erska patted him down and removed all of it. Erskin stopped crying but his grip tightened around Fíli’s thigh. 

Not the first time he’d been stripped of weapons, Fíli let them take from him. But Erska had to know that he was trained in hand to hand, he himself was a weapon. 

“You will carry no weapons on you. Upon your departure you can have them back. In the meantime, you will distance yourself from my family. Any weapons that Bilbo has will be surrendered as well under the same conditions. I won’t banish you in the middle of winter.” Erska looked into his eyes, light, light brown to sea green. “But, then again, you’re used to anticipating it.”

She wasn’t unreasonable. In her expectations, in her dictation, in her orders, she was concise and she made sure you understood completely. Which Fíli did; even if he began to feel the remembered pain of abandonment. 

The blond nodded his head in agreement and waited for Erska to forcibly pry her youngest from Fíli. He was stock still as he heard Erskin scream and flail, trying to get back to the blond. He could close off his emotions, bury them deep and choke the life out of it. The blooming emotions he’d allow to grow were suddenly choked out. He watched, with the cold, calculating look of a seasoned warrior, as Erskin tried grabbing at Fíli again, screaming, crying and wanting Fíli to reach for him too. 

But he didn’t.

\---

I didn’t take too long for Fíli to clear out the bodies. Bilbo retreated to her room, offering to move closer to Fíli in comfort and support. Before retiring with the children she heated up some water and set out a few pails with mops and towels for Fíli. It took longer to completely, religiously, clean the room of blood. The stench lingered and he retrieved a bundle of sweet grass and burned it as incense. The calming effect of the dried grass settled something deep inside of him before relaxing his shoulders and he was finally able to unclench his stomach. 

The entire time he was cleaning he was afraid of Erska coming in with his and Bilbo’s belongings and forcing them out of the house. But she had kept her word, for tonight. 

By the time he finished – he had taken dull knives to the cracks in the stones and one of the old horse brushes to scrub at the miniscule hints of blood – the whole dwelling was ready for a new day. Erska was the first to rise, with Erskin tugged behind her bleary eyed and stumbling on his tired feet. She was impeccable in her dress and Fíli stood up from his cleaning to change and continue his day. 

Despite his injuries and exhaustion Fíli cleaned himself up, dressed and joined everyone for a tense and wordless dinner. Functioning conversations of the list of chores set daily from Erska were given out and immediately followed. 

Fíli and Erlen were still working together – there was nothing any one could do about that. The stock still needed tending too as well as maintenance in the floors below. Fíli kept his son with him at all times. 

Bilbo worked with Erska again. Cleaning and sorting through the guest rooms. Bilbo kept her child within reach when she couldn’t carry her. 

Erskin was sat down to practice his letters while Erska cooked and smoked and dried food. Erskin was pulled behind her whenever she left the kitchen. 

The day was long, it was stressful and tense and silent. By the time dinner came around Fíli was dead on his feet. His injuries seemed to have multiplied, his tired mind fogged painfully with headaches and Eruil was fussing with hunger. Fíli stumbled up the stairs, Erlen keeping an eye on him all day, Eruil ready to jump out of his wrappings. Fíli didn’t feel it until it was too late.

Eruil had fallen out.

Panicked when there was a sudden lightness on his back, he twisted around and tried to catch his falling son. It all happened very slowly that he didn’t realize he was screaming before thick hands wrapped around the small body.

“I’ve got him! I’ve got him, he’s alright.” Erlen said, the only words he’d spoken since last night. 

Fíli descended the few stairs and scooped up his giggling son – a fine time to start finding everything funny and not scary. Papa pressed son to chest and started crying. He was that close to losing his son. He was that close to losing everything.

Legs gave out beneath him and he fell uncoordinated to the floor, Erlen guiding him down so as not to fall down the stairs. Fíli folded himself around his son and cried. All his fears, worries, anger, and self-hate coming out unguarded, he was too tired to care. 

“He’s all I have. He’s all I have.” He kept repeating, rocking on the stairs.

At a loss of what to do, Erlen awkwardly leaned down and patted Fíli’s head, the blonde twitched underneath the touch. The scream and broken sobs between words caused the whole house to come to Fíli. Bilbo saw the large dwarf patting Fíli’s head and asked what happened. She descended the stairs quickly, Erska hot on her tail.

“We were coming up, Fíli in front of me, when Eruil kicked out of his wrappings and almost fell.” Erlen explained quickly, backing off as Bilbo wrapped her arms around the rocking dwarf. “I caught him before he did, though. He’s fine, it’s alright. I caught him. He’s alright.”

He repeated, as if reassuring himself that Eruil was in fact alright. And he was, he was talking against his papa and pulling on his hair. Bilbo was whispering in his ear.

“I’m here, fauntling, I’m here my boy.” Bilbo rocked with Fíli, pulling him against her chest. “Everything’s alright. He’s fine, look. Eruil’s fine. Everything is fine, sweetling.”

She kept trying to sooth him and Erlen looked on, unsure what to do. He couldn’t get around them, the two of them blocking the stairwell. And they couldn’t move yet as Fíli was still in a panic. But even if he could move around him, he wouldn’t. He needed to see this. He needed to be reminded that Fíli had had a tough life, and his twisted southern style Watcher training was because of that hard life. Losing his father, leaving his mother for a journey to reclaim a home he’d never known, loving and losing his brother, being forced upon by an elven king, being banished, and attempting to raise Eruil on his own while being pursued by other dwarves who should be protecting him. 

Someone should be protecting him. Why isn’t anyone protecting him? Why hadn’t his brother followed him? Did he not care enough about his brother-lover? Did he abandon him too? Or had Fíli stayed too far ahead of him on the road and now the supposed father was left behind in the closed mountain pass? Why couldn’t Fíli just find happiness? Or had fate abandoned him too?

All these questions, all these worries for a killer, and Erlen found himself, surprisingly, not caring that he cared. His feelings, the ones he had tried fighting all day, began to resurface in the face of a completely broken Fíli. 

He’d lost everything. EVERYTHING. And he had been persecuted by the last people he had tried to build a life with (hopefully tried building a life with). He’d been judged, by the world all his life. From birth he was told that he wouldn’t survive long. He was told he’d never walk, wouldn’t have the energy for it, the breath for it. He was told, Erlen was sure, that he couldn’t fight, even though he taught himself to walk. He was told that he would never be strong enough to protect his brother. He was judged in his love for that younger dwarf. He was judged for bearing a child from a hated race. He was told that he wasn’t good enough for a family willing to toss him out in the cold. He was judged, persecuted, and shunned all his life. Who was he to judge him here? All Fíli was trying to do, was protect. And he’d been judged even for that. 

He was still in love with the dwarf, he found out. He would be, even if Fíli couldn’t love him back. He may not be a PromiseKeeper like Fíli, but he did make sure to keep it as well as those like him. He’d make sure he could be there for Eruil and Fíli, even if the dwarrow didn’t want him. 

Fíli stopped panicking and stood with Bilbo and they made their way up the stairs again Erlen remained where he was, not moving even an inch. He kept his eyes trained on where Fíli was sitting. Fíli and Bilbo made it up the stairs and turned to go down the hall to their rooms. Bilbo had made room for Fíli and Eruil on her bed so the room across from Erlen was empty, again. The two carriers made their way past his mother where he noticed Erskin following quietly. The little sneak anyways. 

“What is it?” Erska asked, crossing her arms from the top of the stairs. It wasn’t enough to completely snap Erlen out of his musings, but it was enough to get him talking again. 

“Fíli,” He said, still looking at the spot the dwarf just occupied. He wanted to reach out and hug the papa, but he was pretty sure he’d lose a hand if he did try to console him the way he would have two days ago. 

“Is corrupt and a murderer. You know our laws.” Erska made to turn away from her son when he yelled out to her.

“Laws are what drove him away from the ones he loved!” Erlen didn’t move from his spot, but he didn’t have to follow his mother because she didn’t move. “He was forbidden from loving his brother. Unusual as it is with us up here it’s not illegal! Besides that his father died when he was a child, he was separated from his family on this reclaiming of their land.

“Mother, we aren’t as cruel as to send those away only trying to protect their family. That’s all he was doing. How he executes that is his own prerogative, they are the ones threatening his families life. He’s only doing what he’d been trained to do, to kill. Are we not taught the killing strikes?”

“We aren’t taught ta torture!” Erska descended the steps, finally, eyes bright with fury and fear, “I heard that woman’s screams, the poor dwarrowdam was screaming for her life. Yet you were closest and you didn’t do anything to save her from him.”

Erlen shook his head out of frustration, lowering his eyes from his mother, cursing under his breath. His mother huffed above him, willing her glare to get her point across enough. 

“She kicked him.” Was all he could come up with, “She kicked his head against the floor; she threatened him and the children. You were there for that! Would you not kill to protect us? I saw you go after Bilbo and the children. What would you have done to two carriers trying to protect their children?”

“Those _breeders_ -“ a fist against stone wall was a meaty thump of frustration and anger. 

“They aren’t _breeders_. I thought you told me they say it differently, being a carrier. Or are you calling Fíli a whore in front of me.”

“Well he certainly has no problem opening his legs to anyone who’s got it hard for him.” Erska folded her arms, unafraid of her son’s wrathful look.

“You have no right to make those claims! What proof do you have?” Erlen screamed now, at his mother, at the woman who had given birth to him and his brother, the woman who protected him. 

“He isn’t married! He allowed someone he doesn’t even love ta _breed_ him. He’s just like we’ve known southerners ter be. Twisted, corrupt, barbaric! The lot of them! Even the hobbit is no exception to the rule. They’re not married and they’ve given birth.”

“It doesn’t make them whores.” Erlen said quietly, he was in pain for Fíli, who wasn’t around to fight on his or Bilbo’s behalf. “Bilbo was in love, she tried her best ter remain with her lover. I don’t think she wanted to get pregnant on their journey. And Fíli? He was desperate, maybe, for a link to his brother but he didn’t ask to be impregnated by someone he didn’t love. He was raped, mother!”

Erska was silent, not shocked, but silent. So she knew what happened to the two carriers, and she was being cruel to them both. He knew he had to stick up for them, if not just Fíli. If you take in one, you have to accept the other. There was no way they were going to be separated. Erlen growled in frustration, “I still love him. Even after all of this, it just proves to me he’s willing to do any damn thing he can to protect and save his family. He fought for us too! He kept me from having to injure as much as possible, Mother.”

He ran a hand through his loose hair, the bells singing, “He’s not a monster, and he’s not a whore. I love him. And if they leave, then so do I.”

It was an ultimatum he wasn’t sure he would keep, but it was more than a threat or promise, he was trying to get his mother to change her mind. But it didn’t look like she would. Her mouth was flat and white from biting them. Her eyes were steel and her frown caused lines to appear where her face was more or less smooth in her age. At 182, his mother was still the best looking dwarrowdam he’d ever seen if not the scariest. 

“Did I outright banish them?” Erska said, lowly, thinking back on her words.

“You threatened as much.” Erlen ground out.

Erska shook her head, combed back her short hairs that would need wax and joined with the existing dreads. She blew raspberries thinking on her words and weighing the actions of the two southerners. 

They had killed, in her own home, but the strangers were willing to do the same and to innocent children as well. A woman was tortured in her sitting room, and that wasn’t something she was willing to forgive any time soon. The actions Fíli had taken were extreme, but they were necessary considering who their enemy was. And if Fíli was telling the truth, that he was the best in the south, then that may mean someone would send more people just to make sure he and his brood – family – were dead. There would be more trouble on the way if they remained here. But they were also the only thing that came close to a family after their banishment.

“More may come.” Erska said aloud. “He may kill again; he’s got a short temper where his pride is concerned as well. He’s hit you, baby boy.”

“I offended him. I do understand he’d overreacted. But I forgave him just as he has me.” Erlen replied. 

“I can’t condone to this. I can’t accept that he’s killed in this house.” Erska says. He knows that she may never forgive Fíli for what he’d done. But he thought it unfair to judge Fíli and hate him for acting on his training in such a situation. “Do what you want, but you won’t have my blessing.”

“Then you’ll lose me.” He made his way past his mother, who tried to grab him and pull him into a hug. He shrugged passed her, using his bulk to make his way to his room. 

It was unfair what his mother was doing. Fíli practically had no other choice but to do what he had done. He’d killed and tortured, and Erlen will never forget it though he has forgiven. Even if Fíli no longer wanted anything to do with him, Erlen was always going to be there for him and Eruil. He’d promised as much and he could keep that much of it. 

He was going to make his way to his own room when he saw his little brother sitting in the hall, back pressed up against the wall, feet tucked to him and holding a small knife. He looked up to his older brother with worried eyes, trying to hide the knife from Erlen. The taller dwarf just smiled, held up his hands in surrender and signed to him.

**‘I will not attack.’**

Erskin remained where he was. Erlen knew that Erskin had to put the knife down to answer him fully, he also knew that his brother wouldn't be doing that anytime soon.

**‘I just want to check on Fíli and Eruil.’Erlen continued to sign. **‘Are they all sleeping?’****

He hoped they were, instead of crying, again. He’d spent too many nights with his ears searching for Fíli’s sobs in the night that he knew how often the lad’s heart broke. Erskin nodded his head in ascent. 

**‘Will you let me check on them?’** Erlen only moved forward when his brother stood to let him get to the door. The taller dwarf stepped around his brother and opened the door lightly; he belatedly thought that he should have knocked as he heard a thunk of blade in door post. 

He turned his head and saw the dwarvish blade sticking out of the wood. It was intricately carved, almost looking as if it were only a decoration rather than a weapon. The freshly sharpened edge confirmed it. It looked heavy, off-balanced for throwing with precision. And it didn’t take a genius to know who had thrown the blade. 

Fíli had sat up in the nest of blankets and furs. Bilbo’s room was cold without a fire, but her and the children slept soundly. They were all tired, including a dwarf with fresh looking black eyes from lack of sleep. The blond head was trained on Erlen’s figure lurking in the door.

“I was just checking on you.” Erlen said, at a loss of how to placate the other dwarf. “Mother isn’t gonna banish you. And she won’t forgive you. But you have to know that I do, for what it’s worth. You only did what you had promised to do. And any papa, anyone really, would go to any lengths to protect their family. I think- I think I would too, if I had to.”

“No you wouldn’t.” Fíli said in the near dark, a lone candle burned at the foot of the bed, making Fíli look like a spectre here to haunt a sleeping mother. “You don’t have it in you to kill another. I can tell, trust me.”

It was the only words spoken to Erlen since last night and the older dwarf was happy to hear the other’s voice, even if it was rough from unshed tears. 

“Whether or not you know that I couldn’t, I don’t blame you for doing it.” Erlen said something else, quieter, before Fíli realized in the middle of the night what Erlen had said, “I would if it were my children.”

\--

Four days, zero words from the southern family to the northern family, and a young follower later when Bilbo had woken up before anyone else and wanted to cook breakfast. She did, and even Erska ate it. 

\--

Even less words and more days later, Fíli had a plate made for Erlen as he made his way blearily to the breakfast table. He’d slept in, for once, and the blond had the plate waiting for him, daring him to take a bite.

Erlen smiled and braved a bite of his mother’s cooking. 

\--

Eruil and Nirin were growing fast. Every other week Fíli and Erlen tried getting Eruil’s clothes to fit, and Erska, in frustration at the two, took Eruil and put him in a dress. 

“He’s part elf. He’s going ter grow faster than his cousin.” She said, and although Fíli tried to find anger against her, he couldn’t. The truth was blinding. 

Eruil and Nirin were hellions when they discovered that the quicker they move their feet, the more ground they can cover. They were running everywhere, screeching when Erskin followed them, giving them his imitation of a growl. They discovered the joys of hiding from their parents and Erskin (the little traitor) helped them. More often than not, Fíli was almost set into a panic. 

There were still no words spent between them other than Erska explaining the use of a child’s dress on Eruil. 

There were more and more looks made between Erlen and Fíli, though. Ever since Fíli made that plate of breakfast for Erlen, more nonverbal communication was made. They were still unsure if they could trust another with words. And when they realized, at the same time, that they were holding back so as not to misconstrue their words as they often did, they laughed. 

They laughed, doubled over their rakes and shovels, when they realized they were signing in Ingleshmek the whole time they did their chores. And when they didn’t get the other’s attention, soft objects were tossed at the other. When Fíli had caught a wadded ball of cloth out of the air Erlen was suddenly in front of him cursing the shorter dwarf in sign. When they saw what they were doing, that’s when they laughed. 

“I can’t believe this!” Fíli wiped at his eyes, tears leaking out and soaking up in his kerchief. Erlen had wrapped his around his hair, tied up in a knot, he was wearing another blue one, and Fíli, out of some heritage connection, loved the deep blue on him. “How long have we been doing this?”

“I don’t know.” Erlen laughed, shoulders shaking. The feeling inside of the larger dwarf was light but filling, like one of Bilbo’s soups. They laughed a bit more, because of all the heaviness caused by the attack almost four months ago, enjoying the sound as opposed to the silence. Erlen watched Fíli laughing, not forgetting the fact that he had dimples hiding underneath the cloth, adorable and framed perfectly by his growing beard. 

The short braids at his temples had been unraveled a little over two months ago and were brushed back with the rest of Fíli’s hair into a braided knot. Erlen liked looking at it while Fíli was faced away from him. He’d stop in his chores to simply watch the other man, who, as it got warmer, shed his tunic and Erlen could see his muscles underneath sparse scars and chest hair. Training, chores and natural maleness (despite him being softer looking because of his ability at childbearing), all of it Erlen would verbally admit to enjoy watching. So when Fíli was laughing in front of him, beautiful with his sun spun hair, darkened from sweating, he couldn’t help but want to kiss him. 

Fíli looked up to Erlen, half of his face covered, and his eyes zeroed in on the taller dwarf. He began leaning in, for some reason, and Erlen leaned in with him. Fíli suddenly felt large hands gripping his hips, gentle rolling of thumbs on his hip bones, fingers flexing against muscles. The shorter dwarf blushed, the red tint painted across his cheeks as he felt the heat generating like a furnace between them. His veins spread the heat across his body and when they were both close enough that chests were touching, something ignited in the pits of his stomach (something different than his male moon phase). It warmed him completely, a familiar feeling but alien in its distance in time. 

He wanted to kiss him.

Fíli wanted to kiss him, hard and full on the mouth. Press their bodies together and snog the living hell out of the other. Erlen looked like he would be a dominating kisser. 

“Dinner!” Bilbo yelled down the stairwell, causing the two dwarves to jump back. 

Instantly, the heat turned up in their embarrassment at not being caught. They desperately tried to look anywhere else besides the other and made their way upstairs. 

Dinner, as it had been for all of winter, was awkward and quiet. Even more so with the unspoken heavy air that hung over Erlen and Fíli. They kept hiding their looks toward another, pretending to be sly about their covered glances and ‘accidental’ touches. They were only distracted when Nirin began throwing food again, Eruil giving her an offended look he earned from his father. 

“No. ‘Rin. Stop.” The younger of the two yelled at his cousin, trying to get her to stop. She only giggled and threw more potatoes, earning a smack of the hand from her mother. 

Fíli smiled, he couldn’t help the good mood he was actually in. Erlen copied him from across the table and when Fíli ducked his head to hide his smile, Erlen stared in earnest, hoping to catch the last rays of sunshine before it ducked behind the clouds again. Fíli finished his dinner, (a paltry winter meal before they tucked into the dried meats, fruits and veg before they were able to begin tilling the land) Erlen right behind him.

When the blond dwarf made a show of stretching and yawning, he claimed a nap would make him feel better before beginning his son’s studies. Erlen claimed wanting to work off some of his overstuffed gullet. 

No one fell for their excuses. 

\--

Erlen followed Fíli down the hall, pulling lightly at his tunic to get the younger dwarf’s attention. In front of him, Fíli smiled, trying to ignore the dwarf by playing coy when he didn’t feel it, all he wanted to do was turn around and kiss the dwarrow. But when Fíli went past his and Bilbo’s shared room, Erlen decided to pull on Fíli’s tunic’s entirely and drag him to Fíli’s old room. It was neutral territory, neither his or the blonde’s. And when Erlen closed the door and lowered the latch with a definite snick, Fíli attacked Erlen. 

Lips met lips and Fíli kissed Erlen with his closed mouth. Thick arms wrapped themselves around Fíli’s understandably softer waist and pulled the smaller dwarf to Erlen. They moaned when they discovered they were both hard.

“I want.”

“Me too.”

It was unclear who said what, but their clothes were practically ripped off in their desire for the other. Fíli latched his mouth at the pulse on Erlen’s neck when he lowered to untie Fíli’s breeches. It was going to be fast, and neither cared at the moment, they were too far gone for another to bother worrying about it later. Fíli sucked deep, dark hickies to Erlen’s neck, wanting to mark him completely, leaving nothing to argue with Erska. Erlen growled in frustration when he couldn’t get the knot untied. Well, he didn’t have his strength for nothing. When Fíli heard the rip of fabric at the seams, he shuddered harshly at the mistreatment of clothing. 

He didn’t have to worry about hiding from anyone. He didn’t have to worry about not loving them. He was free to love and mark and be marked as much as he wanted. And when Erlen gripped underneath Fíli’s cheeks and lifted up the smaller dwarf, legs wrapped around a thick waist and locked at the ankles. Fíli allowed his hips to roll as he found a pleasure spot at the junction of neck and shoulder on Erlen. The larger dwarf gasped and lightly growled as teeth teased along the tendon. He lowered Fíli and thrust up, cock catching Fíli’s hole as the younger imagined it would. 

The blond convulsed and felt himself harden even more. He gasped and groaned against Erlen’s neck and tried to lower himself down on that hard piece of flesh. 

“No.” Erlen mouthed against Fíli’s cheek where he tried to kiss dimples, “Bed.”

“Fuck me proper there, then. No more teasing.” Fíli rolled his hips again. “I can’t wait, Erlen.”

His name rolling from the male’s mouth lit something in Erlen’s chest. He wanted to hear it again, in different undertones. Hate, anger, love, lust, exasperation, fear, he wanted to hear it all, the emotions that rode with his name. He wanted to hear the utterances of it all from Fíli’s red lips. 

He found the bed, lowered them on it and thrust against Fíli’s hips. He didn’t pull back enough to try and catch Fíli’s hole, he wasn’t prepared to take him yet, not even close. He didn’t release Fíli as they moved against each other, making marks on chest, neck, jaw and throat. He didn’t want to think of the repercussions with the world outside of this room. He only wanted Fíli, calling his name as he climaxed around him. 

Erlen groaned again at his mind’s image. Fíli thrashing in wanton pleasure, limbs splayed and hair a sweaty mess. And there, he wanted something he didn’t think he could have. But he had to be safe.

“Are you close?” Erlen paused before continuing, he heard Fíli’s lips smack from teasing his collarbone. “To your moon? I don’t want to-“

“I’m close.” Fíli said quietly, weighing his next words he was afraid to say. “I said- I said I-I wanted it. Didn’t I?”

Erlen leaned back and frowned at Fíli’s vagueness. It had almost killed a relationship not even seeded yet, and he didn’t want to ruin anything. “I want you, Fíli. I love you. But I don’t want to rush you.”

Fíli lay back, heat and passion gone, leaving only contemplation. Fíli chewed on the thought of his future. Of what it would mean if he did… get… pregnant. The blond threw his head back, exasperated. He looked up to the white canopy above them, Erlen searching his face for any clues to his feelings. 

He wanted it. Yes. He wanted Erlen, he wanted to be safe, to be loved, to love, all without fear of discovery and damnation. But it may happen anyways. He was a Southern Watcher and Erlen was a traditional Northern Watcher. Two cultures who were too similar and different to coexist well, not to mention a mother who would kick Fíli out at the drop of a hat. 

“I-“ Fíli began, he searched for the truth in his head. He wanted to say it, but to say it would damn Erlen too. He couldn’t survive another heart break. Fíli covered his face, hoping to be spared any amount of emotion on Erlen’s face. “I l-lo… sigh, I love you, too.”

“Let me court you.” Erlen said instantly.

“And wait until we’re married for you to fuck me? No way.” Fíli felt frustrated, he’d finally been able to recognize it himself, but he wanted Erlen too much to wait.

“Oh, another difference.” Erlen smiled and leaned down to take Fíli’s mouth and dominate the hot kiss that grew. “As soon as I’m in you (Fíli gasps), we are bonded, partially wed. We aren’t as tight legged, just careful.”

“In me.” Fíli repeated as Erlen commandeered Fíli’s mouth again. Thoroughly distracted, Fíli didn’t realize that he was flexing his hips up to Erlen’s thrusts. “Oh, Mahal, the things you aren’t afraid to say.”

Erlen smiled and leaned further down to nibble at Fíli’s ear. The moaning and writhing coming from the dwarf below him set Erlen’s veins on fire. A sudden thought, calling up what Fíli just said, “Wait, you were thinking of marrying? I mean, you don’t not want it?” 

“I’m not adverse to it.” It was a shot in the dark, and Erlen hit the mark. “I wouldn’t mind marrying you if you asked me correctly, you oaf.”

The red-head leaned back, and smiled the brightest smile Fíli’d ever seen. Erlen’s eyes glowed, positively, glowed. His face lit up and softened. “Now, if you don’t get inside me at this very moment I might say ‘no’ before you can even ask.” 

“Oh, I won’t ask.” Fíli’s confidence wavered. “Because you’ll say ‘yes’ anyways.”

Erlen gathered spit into his hand and rubbed his fingers in it. And this was where Fili was nervous. He’s done it dry before (and he’d never want to bleed like that again), and he’s done it while drugged and oiled. To say he was vastly inexperienced would be an understatement. But it didn’t stop Fíli from finally wanting. It just made him hesitate before he stopped Erlen’s questing fingers. He was rubbing at Fíli’s bud when he hitched his breath. 

“Do you have any, erm, oil, or something?” Fíli asked nervously. Erlen snapped his head up, golden gaze searching out sea green ones. 

“In the kitchen, if you wanna go get it, princess.” Fíli’s heart stuttered to a hault. He didn't think he, did he? Or was he only guessing? Making fun of him? How dare he. 

“Fuck you!” Fíli growled out and pushed Erlen off of him so suddenly that he fell to the floor. 

“Alright, that’s it!” Erlen stood as Fíli attempted to pull his clothes back on. “Tell me what I did wrong. Please. I seem to only ever piss you off, at least let me know what I did wrong.”

“You know what you did wrong.” Well, he really didn't, now did he. Fíli didn’t ever tell him- and Bilbo hadn’t either. 

“Princess.” Erlen called him again, not in lighthearted teasing, but an angry, heated vengeance. “Yer nothing but a princess who get’s his feelings hurt so easily. Honestly, I don’t think you’ve ever been able to take a tease. You probably beat up the poor kids who were trying to be your friends. Thought they were going to stab you in yer Watcher back, didn’t you. Well let me tell you something, princess. I am done with letting you think I’ve purposely offended you. And if you want anything of what I want to give you, ye’d better take those damn clothes off and tell me what the fuck I dun wrong!”

It was as close to angry as Erlen had ever been towards Fíli. And it set Fíli’s blood on fire. 

He attacked. Viciously. And completely naked. 

His personality flipping so quickly caught Erlen off guard. So when Fíli pinned Erlen down, exhilarated at being able to force such a large dwarf down he was only partially surprised. And Fíli realized just how large Erlen was, by the Maker. His chest was as round as a rain barrel, coarse, golden red hair covered his chest and trailed temptingly down his abs (By all things Mahal), and if Fíli even tried to look further down, he’d notice the wicked and tasty curve a certain body part made to trail pre-cum along his navel. His navel! Aule he was long.

“Think you can fit?” Fíli asked, feeling hot from the dirty talk. 

“Find out.” Erlen challenged. From the breeches Fíli had tried to steal he pulled out a vial of oil. 

“You’ve got to be-“

“Kidding? Yes, I was. I had one this whole time, princess.” Erlen’s shoulders were suddenly being pressed down into the mattress by Fíli. Erlen was reminded of a bear trying to break into a log full of bee hive and honey, all of Fíli’s meager weight put behind it. 

“Don’t. Call. Me. Princess.” Fíli ground out, fear unclenched around Erlen's heart. Fíli's only tell was his dimples, daring insubordination from his lover. 

His lover. 

Oh.

By. 

Mahal.

This was real. 

“Princess.” It was whispered, and Fíli tried reaching for the vial and only ended up kissing Erlen for his troubles. Lips and teeth caught and nipped and bit wonderfully against each other. Erlen blindly slicked his fingers, aware that the vial was partially stoppered and deposited next to his hip for further use. 

As Fíli ravaged the kiss, demanding submission from the larger dwarf, Erlen gave in. Almost. One finger shoved suddenly inside Fíli that the intrusion caused him to clench and gasp in Erlen’s mouth. He was fucked by that single digit and he lost all thought. His extremities tingled as all the blood shot straight to his cock, where it throbbed next to Erlens’. The red-head’s middle finger pumped inside of Fíli until he began thrusting back on it. Holding onto large shoulders Fíli moaned open mouthed against Erlen's, eye’s closed in pleasure. He rocked back and jumped when another finger entered him and pumped and scissored and just plain fucked his hole. 

He was a writhing mess and it was only two fingers. His chest heaved with painful pleasure and his hips stuttered. Another finger and a wicked twist inside of him almost unglued him, if not for the near painful squeeze at the base of his cock. His orgasm was held at bay and Erlen didn’t stop finger fucking his hole. He felt another muscle twitch inside of him, showing its interest in what Erlen was doing. 

Before, Fíli really thought it impossible to get four fingers, from elf or dwarf, inside of him. But Erlen managed it. He was sweating against his lover, lazily, distractedly sucking wet, dark bruises against random parts of skin. This was hot, and hard, and everything Fíli didn’t realize that he needed. 

“More,” Fíli cried, wanting that thick veined cock inside of him, emptying his seed deep inside of him. 

His lover complied, never really able to deny him anything. He ground the four fingers inside of the dwarf on top of him, his other fist around Fíli’s prick, keeping the younger male from coming. Erlen teased a little more, pumping, rotating wrist and making as wide as circular motions as he could. Fíli’s cries of pleasure were music to Erlen’s ears. “Kiss me.”

And Fíli did. He kissed him lazily, passionately, he was almost too far gone to really be coordinated enough, but he managed. It was wet, sloppy, and some teeth clashed. But it was perfect. 

Erlen reached for the vial of oil with one of his hands, the other keeping a firm hold around Fíli. “Don’t you dare come yet, princess.”

Fíli was seriously going to punch Erlen for his troubles. He really was. But right now. He was about to get his brains fucked out by the last dwarf he’d ever imagine being in love with. And he was, now that he was able to literally sit back and look at Erlen, in love with him. He was all muscle, yes, but there was a different type of intelligence than he wasn't used to. Miners, they were in the south, unshakable, unmovable, and stubborn as they come. But Erlen was nothing but the last. He was emotional, he was caring and he was attentive, he was a farmer. He shared many traits with Bilbo, as she was a gardener and a lover of green growing things. And Erlen’s sensitivity had never been such a turn on as now. Now that the larger dwarf was willing to lay on his back as his lover was about to be split on top of him. And Fíli smiled. 

“Love you. Truly.” Fíli confessed. He leaned down to kiss the red head again, golden eyes closing as Fíli got closer. When Fíli felt a heat gently prod his hole, he paused in his kissing. “Is that…”

“I’ll be gentle.”

“Not as reassuring as it should be.” Mahal, he was huge! He hadn’t really gotten a good look at the other male before, but, oh my. How was he going to fit!

“Relax.”Erlen put two fingers inside of him, kissed him at the same time, and pulled his ring open. It began burning, and Fíli tried not to think about what was going to be entering him next. He felt the head of Erlen’s cock touch his wet hole. It was hot and he was pulsing on Erlen’s fingers as he was being stretched. He whimpered when the head caught and popped inside of him quickly.

Their was a slight squeal of pain before his hips twitched and he took more of Erlen than he was ready for at this point. Fingers gone there was only the round stretch of Erlen. Tears made it’s way down Fíli’s cheeks and he clenched his eyes. “Relax, my love. Relax.”

It was a while, after much breathing and lower back rubbing before Fíli tested a roll of hips. Erlen slid further in and they both gasped. Fíli breathed hard, anticipating what he was about to do. He just needed Erlen so bad. In one move, he raised up and sat almost fully on Erlen’s lap. They both groaned, loudly, Erlen almost shouting, actually, they both shouted. The grip on Fíli’s hips were definitely going to bruise. Erlen tried holding Fíli still, but he really never was one to listen to commands. 

He rotated his hips, trying to take more of Erlen but he was as full as he was going to get. In this inner channel anyways. 

Inside of him, Fíli had another channel, one where, once entered, his bed mate would unload in him to plant his seed. That was much deeper and would probably need preparing too. But the rise of demanding hips, he angled to find that channel, and he found it with a couple of thrusts of help from Erlen. Now he could seat himself fully on his lover. 

Panting and sweating above him, Fíli gripped the hands on his hips and began rising himself again and sitting down. The friction was the most wonderful thing he’d ever felt. And it was that much better because he loved the one that was fucking him, this time. 

Suddenly, Fíli’s world shifted on its axis while Erlen flipped their positions. He pinned Fíli down, almost sliding out of him, and settled his hips before asking, “Are ye ready?”

“Call me princess again.” This was a new feeling. 

“Princess.” And Erlen really began fucking him. Almost folded in half Fíli could feel every vein on his lover’s cock as it slid in and out of him at a brutal pace. Hips smacked against ass and balls against cleft and Erlen settled his upper weight on his forearms which were bracketed around Fíli’s head. The blond reached up and tried to grasp the large biceps. He groaned, he moaned, and he screamed when Erlen hit the right spot inside of him. The one that made him see stars. Erlen, in the position Fíli was in, was too wide to fully wrap his legs around. Feet in the air he was split open by this dwarf he loves.

He could feel that pool of heat in his belly, hotter and heavier than anything he’d felt before now, and he gripped at Erlen’s thick, sweaty arms in warning. He could feel his ass quiver in anticipation and Erlen grunted like an animal. It sent Fíli over the edge in such a hard crash he felt his whole body seize in his orgasm. He screamed, a guttural, fulfilled scream before teeth latched around his neck in an animalistic display of dominance and he kept coming between their stomachs. 

The hips above him stuttered and Fíli could feel Erlen twitching inside before finding his release. The hot spurt of cum filled the blond and he groaned again at the near dirty feeling of having this man’s cum inside of him. It painted his insides and he could feel the pulse of Erlen’s release against his quivering hole. 

It was the best feeling he’d ever had. And before he passed out, he heard Erlen whisper in his round ear, “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'huish nxlaq': (lit) to leave away, that person there
> 
> 'nshiye i klawniiksukni': river (paired with 'i' like 'ee'; means meander) to travel with understanding.
> 
> All of this was as close as i could get in my language. Looking back, now, I find that my language isn't as close to Khuzdul than I thought. In the future, I'm going to switch over to Khuzdul (now that I've got the Neo-Khuzdul dictionary yay!).


	11. News From the South

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili and Bilbo finally hear of the rumored war that happened in Erebor. 
> 
> “They were about to be killed off when the white orc – Bolg I tink his name were – attacked prince and king, slaughtering through the ranks.”
> 
> “NO!” Fíli jumped up, heart pounding. “NO! It can't be! Tell me they lived! Tell me the prince lives!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More OC dwarves, more names to be confused on, and more shit happens. 
> 
> Sorry if I break you, again (you know who you are).

Fíli woke up sometime during the night to a sharp pain in his lower back.

 

“Fu-uck, Erlen.” He said quietly in the dark. Apparently he wasn’t as quiet as he could be, his bed mate and now lover shifted in his sleep, one thick arm flopped over Fíli’s middle. The blonde had been laying on his back, just as he was when he initially passed out, Erlen must have just lay on his stomach next to Fíli and promptly fell asleep there.

 

The heat of the room was getting to Fíli, near suffocating him, but with the large arm over him and the pain in his back he knew he wouldn’t get far.

 

“Erlen.” He tried to wake the snoring beast beside him. “Wake up, you bear.”

 

Fíli kept shaking the dwarf before he finally shifted, snorted awake in a semi panic and looked at Fíli, confused. “Wha-“

 

“Get me water and open up that damn door, please.” Fíli wiped at the sweat at his temple. “I can’t move or else I would.”

 

He felt, rather than saw in the dark, Erlen shaking his head to get the cobwebs out. He must have been rubbing his face because Fíli could hear the bristles on his face between calloused hands. The red-head fell onto his back, grunted something unintelligible and fell back asleep.

 

“Erlen!” Fíli near shouted. This dwarf was incredible! Incredibly dense.

 

Fíli shook his head and made a few quick breaths to increase his heart rate. A trick he had learned a few years ago, increase your heart rate, get that adrenaline going and you can barely feel the pain when holding your breath. The same trick worked when going underwater. It was a handy thing to know, unfortunately it couldn’t erase even a sliver of pain he was feeling now. Why had he rushed it last night? He wasn’t thinking clearly, only that he wanted Erlen in the worst ways, and the idiot followed.

 

Leg’s shaking Fíli searched in the dark for Erlen’s breeches, or even small clothes, and a tunic to pull on. Covered, still filthy but covered, Fíli shuffled as best he could to the door. It wasn’t that far away but, Aule, it took forever to get to the door. By the time he was reaching for the latch that locked them in a large hand appeared, covering his smaller hands. Fíli let out an exasperated sigh.

 

“You choose now to get up?” He banged his head on the door. “You insufferable,”

 

“I don wake up a’ quickly a’ ‘ou.” True to his words, he bodily leaned into Fíli, wrapping himself around the smaller dwarf, head hitting the door too. He grunted, inhaled quickly, and picked Fíli up gingerly, aware of his injuries.

 

He took four massive steps toward the bed, ignoring the indignant squeak from Fíli upon being lifted like a bride, and gently deposited his lover back in the sheets. He placed a kiss on his blonde’s head and grunted again against his sleep. All the while, Fíli couldn’t help but smile at how adorable Erlen was literally half asleep. He chuckled a little as he turned, eyes closed and made his naked way to the door again, lifted the latch and kept repeating,

 

“Water, open the door, flannel, soap,  _yawn_  Fíli needs water.” Erlen continued like that down the dark hall, just enough light from the kitchen fire for the blonde to watch the large dwarf stub his toe on the post.

 

Despite his pain, he laughed, he rubbed his face, covered his eyes and laughed. It was queer, a little, at how quickly they had fallen in like this. One day, they were hating each other, not talking, and all of a sudden, they were sharing a bed. There was nothing logical about how they had gotten here. The last few months were a practical blur. All he could recall of the last four months were silence, that awkward space sharing on the stocks level, the lingering gazes that they both secreted towards each other. Fíli couldn’t comprehend how they had finally gotten here.

 

The winter, after the Watcher attack, had been all about his son and Nirin. They were growing quickly over the winter months, as do most dwarves at this age. A quick spurt, and slowing down again, shoot up like a sprout, slow down, beards come in about this time, sprout, sprout, sprout, adulthood and they’re marrying off.

 

No, it couldn’t be that quick. But he recalled his mother giving out the same groans.  _My boys,_  she would say,  _growing too fast for their own good. You’re all scrawny bits just last month, now look at you! As thick as your uncle and more handsome than most know what to do with._

 

It was the only time he’d been commented on his looks. That he approved of anyhow. Always the pretty one, the golden one. It frustrated him to no end when suitors would proclaim his effeminate beauty rather than his maleness. He still had those bits! Even if he could carry… even if he was a breeder.

 

Fíli scoffed at his internal dialogue. Breeder. It wasn’t that foreign of a word any more than ‘carrier’ was.  It still held some sting to it as he couldn’t erase a lifetime of knowing what that word means in the south. But up here, he didn’t mind it much. He would still punch Erlen if he tried to call him that, though.

 

“What’re ‘ou laughin’ a’?” Erlen mumbled as he brought in a pitcher of cold water and a pale of steaming water with a flannel dripping along its side. The brute must have taken a detour to his room, he was now wearing breeches. All that chest hair and muscles had Fíli drooling again.

 

“Erm, nothing.” Fíli tried to sit up, out of awkwardness, and ended up hissing in pain.

 

“You.” Erlen took the steps to the bed and deposited pail and pitcher. “Always trying to do everything yerself. Ask, for once, eh?”

 

Erlen’s hot hands picked Fíli up and propped him against pillows. Fíli blushed at his inadequacy. He hadn’t had to need assistance to sit up in bed in practically a lifetime, he hated the feeling then as he does now. He rationalized that it couldn’t be helped any more than then. He heaved his shoulders and sighed, accepted a mug of cold water from Erlen and gulped down the refreshing liquid. It splashed down his throat and cooled his core pleasantly, finally able to lower his temperature.

 

Fíli smacked his lips out of a childhood habit and relinquished the mug to be filled again. 

 

“Do you want me to,” Erlen indicated the pail of steaming water and Fíli vehemently shook his head ‘no’.

 

“I can do it.” He put his mug of water down and turned out of bed to reach for the flannel. Erlen watched, hesitant to lend a hand in fear of gaining Fíli’s wrath again. The pain flared up again in his back and Fíli schooled his features. “Maybe, if you could, get me the cloth?”

 

Fíli didn’t look up, shamed that he was so dependent. “You know, it’s-“

 

“Not a bad thing to ask for help. I know.” Fíli cut in. He sighed as he saw the look on his lover (Mahal, his lover). “You’ve told me as much. Just as I’ve told you that I’m not used to asking for help.”

 

Erlen thought on his words, watched as Fíli mopped at his face, cleaning off the salt of sweat and dabbed at the spotted neck and chest. He didn’t blush, but he looked away, affording Fíli some measure of privacy. The flannel made its way into his vision again; he rinsed it off, squeezed excess water out, and handed it back to Fíli.

 

“Is it- is it because you’re a Watcher?” Erlen asked, timid. He really didn’t like making Fíli angry. The blonde stopped in his cleaning and looked at the older dwarf. Erlen couldn’t see the look he was making.

 

“No.” Fíli said, finishing his cleaning his stomach. “I taught myself how to walk when I was five – I’m only that much older than my brother. I taught myself a lot of things because it was the only way I was ever going to learn. Even as I got older, mother and father were so afraid for me. Father would follow me wherever I was. He’d never help, I didn’t want him to. And mother, well, she didn’t want to witness if she couldn’t help. I am just so used to doing things myself. I have a hard time asking for it now.

 

“We-  _sigh_ , before the fall of Erebor, had been in pretty high standings. But the life I was raised in was in poverty. Mother married a Blue Mountain miner, the only one who would accept her small dowry. She said she eventually fell in love with him. And you could tell. He doted on her, and us, before he died. He had done everything for her. He cooked when he got home, he taught her how to darn, he taught her a lot of things, except how to carry on after him. She was devastated, my brother didn’t know why father wasn’t coming home any more, he blamed himself, for being a bad child. I had to convince him that he wasn’t. And when I left for my training he turned into this little shit-kid spoiled by mother.”

 

Fíli smiled as he remembered coming home, after so long away training in the mines on his footwork. It was a relief to see his family, but  _nadadith_  had been inconsolable, he blamed and threatened and when Fíli wasn’t going anywhere (except training during the day with the excuse of working), he finally came out of his shell and was really able to shine.

 

“I raised him. I loved him. Even if I knew it wouldn’t last, couldn’t last, I gave everything to him, I guess to make up for what was taken from him. I spoiled him too, but I loved him.” Fíli wiped at tears he thought he was done shedding. He sniffed and played at the frayed ends of the flannel, threads deposited on his clothed lap. “I gave up everything for him, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

 

There was a purpose, Erlen realized, to telling him all of this. That, no matter how great of distance in land or time, Fíli was always going to love his brother. And this was his roundabout way of asking, affirming, that it was alright to have another in his heart before accepting him. And Erlen couldn’t begrudge him any of it.

 

“A time for sharing, huh?” Erlen took the cold rag from Fíli, dipped it in the water again, wrung it out, and lifted it to dab at Fíli’s wet eyes. “I wouldn’t hate you for loving him. Even if he’s not here to claim you, to love you back – that’s the jealousy in me speaking I suppose. It just shows me, that when you trust someone enough to love them that your love is enduring. And I hope that I have, that I can, gain that trust in you too.”

 

Fíli nodded his head in understanding. He didn’t know what he wanted from Erlen, but he was tired of being alone, and he was tired of fighting his feelings for this dwarf. Erlen put the pail and rag away and joined Fíli back in bed. The blonde refused the sheets, he was still too hot, so he pulled the younger dwarf towards him and rested his chin on top of Fíli’s head. They shifted around until they were comfortable again and Erlen inhaled, and held his breath in preparation for his sharing.

 

“My father was killed by a  _harupt_  - a type of snow cat,” He filled in when he realized Fíli wouldn’t know what a  _harupt_  was. “They’re fairly vicious, and this one was starved looking. Erskin was only an infant, no older than Eruil when you first arrived. My father, Nok, was a large dwarf, like me, so he taught me how to use my strength properly. Mother trained me in what you call Watcher training, and father taught me how to be gentle and kind. He taught me it was wrong to hurt someone, something, out of anger. And you can bet mother didn’t like it when we fought.”

 

“It wasn’t completely my fault.” Fíli grumped below him. Erlen pulled him tighter and huffed a chuckle in the blonde hair.

 

“Regardless, I got in some serious trouble with ma. Anyhow, we were out in the flats, between this house and the rest of the village just east of us, it was spring and it’s when the predators are particularly aggressive. It jumped out, attacking my pa and he tried to beat it back. He told us all to run, and we did, we left him behind and mother soon gave me Erskin to take and go ahead of her. I didn’t realize that the  _harupt_  was following us.

 

“She was attacked too, and when I heard her screaming I stopped, and I couldn’t do anything but watch as the beast mangled my mother’s leg.”

 

“Is that why she sometimes limps?” Fíli asked aloud, interrupting Erlen. He snuggled deeper into the cocoon of dwarf.

 

“Yeah, especially when she’s on her feet all day. She was on the ground, kicking it and it kept biting and scratching up her leg. And all I could do was stand there and watch, Erskin was crying in my arms. I could see other  _harupts_  getting after my pa, and I couldn’t do anything. I was so afraid. Even with my training, I couldn’t help my family. I blamed myself for what happened. That I couldn’t be more of a man and help my pa, or even to defend my ma. I don’t remember how it ended, but I do remember dragging ma back to the healer’s house and… I don’t remember most of what happened after it.”

 

“You were in shock.” Fíli pulled out of the embrace, gently, and looked up to the red-head, “It’s a terrible thing to see your family being attacked, and you not being able to help.  _Nadadith_  was attacked by giant spiders in Mirkwood, elves had captured us and stripped me of my weapons before I could even get to him. I’d been so afraid. And uncle was furious I let him out of my sight in the first place.”

Erlen watched Fíli recount his horrors, not upset that he was interrupted again. He just smiled, and rubbed small circles in Fíli’s back.

 

“Yeah, that’s what the healer said. Erskin got sick after that, that’s when he lost his hearing. The fever couldn’t be broken before that, I just felt so useless that- yeah. I was in shock.” Erlen finished. Fíli could tell that he hated being incompetent just the same as himself.

 

They lay there, letting a comfortable silence fall over them. Fíli still couldn’t believe how easy it was to be in this dwarf’s arms. Despite everything that happened, how Erlen had found out in one of the worst ways what Fíli was. And he didn’t care. He didn’t care that Fíli was a killer, or rather, knew how to kill. He still didn’t like how easy it was for him. But the lack of weapons on him, from Erska’s orders, made him edgy for a few weeks, but Bilbo was able to calm him down enough to be okay with not having any on him.

 

It was tough, for the longest time, to get out of the habit of attempting to swipe a knife from the dinner table. He’s always been taught to have a weapon, a blade, on him at all times even if it were just one. But after all these months without one, he had been able to accept the loss. Now, he was able to focus more on his son and now he hoped he could focus on strengthening the relationship between he and Erlen.

 

Quiet snores turned to light sleep twitching around Fíli and he realized the oaf was out. Fíli smiled, kissed a mark that was already on the chest in front of him, and snuggled into Erlen some more before finding his own sleep.

 

Before morning Fíli practically threw Erlen off of him to cool down, the larger dwarf not waking up in the process.

 

\--

 

Fíli woke up alone in the bed, a thin sheet settled over his shoulders. Bleary eyed, he looked around the room and noticed the clothes were picked up and fresh ones for Fíli were folded and sat on top of a chest next to the bed. The pain in his lower back was a throbbing red pressure, but he thought he could survive the day with it.

 

He really should have been more patient.

 

Dressed, face washed and hair braided Fíli made his slow, limping way down the hall. He could hear the fire crackling in the kitchen, and he winced realizing that Erska may be in there. Not one to cower from another, Fíli bolstered his shaky courage and entered the room. It was empty, a soup pot simmering over the fire, the dried herbs hung from the rafters and the wet oak smell of mead filled the room. No one drank mead here. It was usually ale or barley water. Fíli couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t alone. He remembered the last time he entered the kitchen and someone was there to threaten his family.

 

He stuck his head in the landing where the stairs led to the pantry and then the stocks. He listened for Erlen or any sort of familiar movement. Not hearing any, he reassessed the kitchen, a loaf of bread was sliced, cloth covering revealed the fresh loaf and discarded heel. Fíli resisted palming the knife as he made his quiet way into the sitting room. Empty. The second residential hall was dark and quiet. The foyer, however, sported new and familiar packs. Boots were missing and Fíli breathed a sigh as he realized everyone must be outside.

 

He opened the heavy oak door, it squeaking on its hinges.  _They should be oiled soon. I can find some mineral oil in the store room later._ Keeping maintenance around the house was second nature to him after having to pick up after his father.

 

When the door was open enough for him to stick his head out he was temporarily blinded by the clear early spring sun. The fresh air smelled of pine, mud, ice and everything outdoors. He’d missed this smell. The winter snows literally engulfed the house since he was last out here burning ‘things’ and didn’t allow for anyone outside safely. Now, though, the snows were melting, drifts receding and creating puddles in the ice and frozen ground. He could hear the dripping of icicles and the squealing laughter of children.

 

Stepping out further Fíli realized that there was a timberline no more than one hundred paces from the house. Where Bilbo and Fíli had come from was flat before breaking into a set of sharp peaks and mountains with snow and ice still on them. Large hills, half and half again the size of the mountains, rolled into the distance, looking as if they were flattened out by a giants’ feet the further north it went. 

 

Fíli looked down and followed the tracks of different sized boots out into the opening. He fell through the ice covered snow a few times, pain shooting up his back, but he kept trudging on, wanting to enjoy the little bit of outside or a while. He followed the tracks around the house where he found Erlen tending to the cows, horses and a small herd of goats. Tall posts shot out of the snow and acted as a corral when boards where hammered between them.

 

The children were with Erska, Bilbo and Erskin, all of them holding the children up to keep them from falling completely through the snow. Erlen was fluffing out some hay and alfalfa and looking up a few times to watch his family. They’re family.

 

“Erlen.” Fíli found himself saying before he could stop himself. He greeted the larger dwarf with a small wave, hands in his armpits as he forgot to put on a coat. Erlen stabbed the pitchfork into the snow and hopped the fence,  _Wow,_ and made his way to his lover. “Hello.”

“Hullo.” Erlen smiled lightly then shed his coat to wrap around the shivering dwarf in front of him. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

 

“I’d most likely hate you if you did.” Fíli smiled trying to show that he was teasing. Erlen understood and chuckled a little, leaning in to kiss Fíli on the forehead.

 

“Sleep well? How are you feeling?” Erlen kept his pestering to a minimum, which Fíli silently thanked him for.

 

“Still sore, but manageable.” Fíli answered honestly. He angled himself to watch his son with his… brother-in-law?  _Let’s not make it complicated yet._  He smiled and waved at his son when he realized his papa was here, the blonde made faces to get him to laugh.

 

Arms wrapped themselves around Fíli and he leaned into them, watching and gauging Erska and Bilbo’s reactions. They weren’t surprised (they weren’t quiet enough for that last night) but they were watching the two. Erlen laughed and Fíli lightly punched the broad chest.

 

“Have you eaten yet?” Erlen asked, pulling out of the embrace. Fíli’s hands trail, fingertips last to touch, still not separating.

 

“Trust you to ask about my well-being.” Fíli said watching the other five make their slow way toward the new couple.

 

“Of course I would. I love you; I would want you to take care of yourself.” Erlen replied. Their fingertips still haven’t left another, gripped between the distance.

 

Fíli didn’t reply, just smiled, accepting the way he felt when Erlen was concerned. It was a different feeling than what he was used to, but it was still enjoyable knowing someone was concerned enough to care. Fíli grabbed Erlen’s hand and lifted it to his mouth, he kissed the knuckles on his fingers and bent down for his son.

 

A flower of flame bloomed in Erlen’s chest, he couldn’t believe that Fíli was willing to be this way with him, in public, in front of his mother. It was exhilarating, knowing that he could finally share a tender moment like this with the one he loves. He doesn’t think that he would ever tire of it. He watched as Fíli’s hair, braided and knotted as usual, shined off of the afternoon sun. Erlen suddenly wished he could see what his hair would look like with the customary ropes of the north. Would Fíli ever want to get dreds? Or would he want to keep his braids?

 

Fíli stood up, talking with Bilbo about something using a language he wasn’t accustomed to.  _Most likely the common tongue of the south._  Bilbo held Nirin on her hip, the girl struggling to get back down and making her voice heard. Erskin tugged lightly at Bilbo’s arms to get her to give Niring to him, which she did distractedly. Their voices were slightly raised and Bilbo was indicating the marks on Fíli’s neck. Erlen saw Fíli’s ears go red and Erlen laughed to himself. He loved it when Fíli blushed, his dimples would be showing and his freckles would be out in full force.

 

Erlen studiously watched the interaction with Fíli and Bilbo, language lost to him. He enjoyed these small moments, even if it seemed like he was hovering.

 

“Erlen.” He heard his mother speak lowly to him. The two southerners paused, and took their conversation further away. Erlen frowned then turned to glare at his mother. “Don’t give me that look, young man.”

 

“I’ll give what look I have.”

 

“Don’t you dare sass.” Erska put up a finger to him. Erlen was a head taller than Erska, Fíli just as tall as his mother. With her greying hair and thick dreds with bone beads, she really was beautiful and scary. “Now, what I want to know is, how serious this is and how you plan on telling the rest of the clan. And does he know?”

Does he know?

 

No.

 

That’s the simple answer to that one. But Erlen didn’t care if he knew or not right now because if he told Fíli… ugh, he could just tell this was going to be a make or break them right now. But knowing Fíli’s temper about surprises, he should get it over quickly.

 

“It’s serious. As you can tell,” indicating the marks on their necks, “we love each other and he’s already, sort of, almost, said ‘yes’. When do I plan on telling them? When they all get here. Does he know? No.”

 

Erska huffed, crossed her arms and turned to watch her youngest son play with Nirin at the other two adults’ feet, Eruil gripping tightly to his papa. Erlen saw a little hand go from gripping braid to reaching out to him.

 

“Pa pa.”

 

All thoughts and conversations stopped.

 

Oh.

 

Dear.

 

Mahal. Not yet.

 

“What did you do?” Fíli asked Erlen. Erska bristled beside her son.

 

“ _My_  son didn’t do anything.” The dwarrowdam looked like she wanted to goad him into fighting. The weather was turning, maybe she would actually kick Fíli and Bilbo out now that it was getting warmer. “ _Your_  son was the one who said it.”

 

“That’s not-“ Fíli growled but turned his son around on his chest so that both of them were facing the other carrier and son. “What I meant was, I never taught him to call Erlen ‘pa pa’. I wanted to know if he was making Eruil say it.”

 

“He most certainly was not!” Erska practically yelled.

 

“Please, Erska, we were having a good conversation earlier.” Bilbo pleaded from behind Fíli. “Could we please calm down? Fíli is trying to explain himself.”

 

All three carriers were tense for different reasons. Erska was still protective and cautious. Fíli really was trying to explain himself and to work past this communication barrier they all had. And Bilbo was worried they were all going to really start fighting.

 

Fíli held on to his son while he kicked his feet and tried to throw himself at Erlen making grabbing hands again and kept saying ‘pa pa’.

 

“Mother, please.” Erlen rolled his eyes at the woman and walked towards Fíli and Eruil. The lad kicked in anticipation and squealed when he was lifted above Erlen’s head. Fíli smiled at the two and felt his chest warm. To Fíli, Erlen answered his earlier question, “And I never taught him to call me that. He must be trying to figure this out.”

 

Erlen pointed at he and Fíli when he said ‘this’. And honestly, Fíli didn’t quite know where it was going to end up either. But he knew that Eruil needed a father, and who better than Erlen? Gah! Bilbo was right! He needed to get his head and heart in the right place before agreeing to marry the red-head.

 

He loved him, but was the love he had now enough for Erlen? Was it enough to give him? Ah! He wasn’t even making sense to himself, never mind trying to tell Erlen where he was emotionally at this point. He agreed with his aunt that he should take it slow, not rush things (like he did last night, not complaining or regretting, just… should have taken it slower).

 

“Sorry I keep getting you in trouble.” Fíli changed the subject. “Seems like all I’ve been able to do for you.”

 

Fíli felt his head lifted from looking at his feet, chin in Erlen’s hand his green eyes met golden ones.

 

“Don’t apologize for that.” Erlen leaned down and kissed Fíli on the lips, a chaste thing that left Fíli breathless. “It’s not your fault. But I’m happy that you’re trying. You’re like an angry kitten with all your spitting rage. Always ready to attack with your little claws.”

 

The blonde made an obviously sarcastic offended look. Jaw dropping, dimples giving away his jest he lightly hit Erlen’s shoulders.

 

“A kitten, huh?” It was so good to be on speaking terms after such a long winter. Not to mention whatever this relationship was.

 

“Tiny one. Orange, maybe with a tuft of fur missing on the hind end. Crooked tail.” Erlen motioned what the ‘kitten’ would look like with one handed signs that Erskin began laughing at.

 

“And pray tell, Erlen, why I would look so scruffed?” Fíli grabbed the lapels of Erlen’s tunic and pulled the larger dwarf down to his eye level.

 

They were so close to kissing, he could hear Erskin mock sicking up behind him and Nirin laughing at the little red-head. Erlen smiled, he was beginning to love this side of Fíli. Was this the side that Fíli’s  _nadadith_  had gotten?

 

“Perhaps it’s the spider bites at your throat, young man.” A gruff, elder’s voice echoed from out of the timberline.

 

Fíli pulled back suddenly, reaching for weapons he didn’t have, and scanned the area. If he saw Erlen’s face he would have seen how sad he looked at witnessing Fíli’s guarded and readily killing nature.

 

The southerner found that there was one older man, probably about as old as Dori, walking through the snow with oilskins around his boots and legs. The leather cordage frozen against the ties. A black bear skin wrapped around the man’s shoulders, gold hair pulled back tightly, dreds flattened and matted looking. He had steely grey eyes that seemed to pierce directly through Fíli and jagged fading red tattoos on his balding head.

 

Behind him was a woman, somewhere younger than Fíli was, with loose auburn hair. She didn’t wear braids or ropes, there were no adornments and she was smooth faced. She did have the customary red tattoos of the northerners, but perhaps she was a man-girl. He looked behind them and saw no one else. Not up in the trees or deeper in the sparse forest.

 

“Granddad!” Erlen greeted the man. Erska walked as quickly as she could to the older man, she slipped deeply into the snow a few times before catching herself.

 

“ _Adad!_ You’re early!” Together they fell against the icy snow, laughing as they sunk past the crust. The man-girl behind Erlen’s grandfather smiled but was polite. She must be as new as he and Bilbo were to this family. But what were her connections? What were her intentions?

“Well, no going back now.” Fíli heard Erlen say next to him. He looked over, eyebrows cocked. “There’s something you should know before this goes on any further.”

 

Fíli’s heart stopped cold, the coat around him not able to trap the warmth that was beginning to melt the ice his veins.  He watched Erlen’s face as he fought with the words he wanted to say.

 

“Well let’s not be shy, what is it?” Fíli demanded, pulling the coat tighter around his shoulders. Bilbo groaned at the anticipation of another fight.

 

“I was previously engaged. Before I met you. It’s not her, I don’t know who that is, but she is a part of a neighboring clan.” Erlen dared to look into Fíli’s eyes. “I only met her this past winter, before snowfall, and we were supposed to wed this spring.”

 

His heart really did stop. Fear, anger, and abandonment warred within Fíli. “What!?”

 

His arms tightened around his chest, pulling the coat closer. How could this be? Fíli thought that Erlen loved him! Not some other dwarrowdam. Just what type of disaster was his life to constantly hurt him?

 

“It’s not what you think! Fíli, I love you and no one else! She was a necessity, I’m too old to not be paired with someone.” Erlen bounced a hiccupping Eruil, little tyke kept trying to call both males papa. “It was all arranged and I never thought I would meet you!”

 

“So I was just a replacement? A way out?!” Fíli sorely wanted to push Erlen, but he was holding his son and wouldn’t dare. Fíli threw his hands out and gripped his hair tightly, “You just thought I was broken enough for a convenient marriage? Oh, gods! I really fell for it this time! I thought that there was actually someone who could love me! Someone who wasn’t family, someone who didn’t just want a bird in a cage, someone who  _I_ thought I could trust. Fuck you, Erlen.”

 

Fíli wanted to reach for his son, pull him close, there was at least one male in this world who wouldn’t hate him. But who’s to say after he finds out how he was conceived. No! No, Eruil wouldn’t hate his papa, already he was crying and gripping tightly to Erlen with one hand and reaching for him with his right. Cheeks blotched and rosy, blue eyes swirling nebulae in his fear and want.

 

“Would you- just-, aragh! Fíli calm down!” Erlen cradled Eruil against his chest, grip tight in his hair tugging him forward to his papa.  “You always jump to the worst conclusions imaginable! Just calm down! You aren’t a replacement. I have  _never_  thought about you that way! I was telling the truth when I said ‘love you’. Because I do! I could never love her, that dwarrowdam, I love and want you! I want to marry you, have children with you and make you the happiest dwarrow in the world!

 

“But you have to just fly off the handle like you do and persecute me for something I had not meant to say! I love you, you frustrating dwarf. I would cross the worlds for you! I would conquer any drake and mountain if you told me to. Fíli I would gather all the stones and gems in the earth and give them to you. There is nothing that I wouldn’t do for you should you ask. But please, Fíli, don’t accuse me of not being true to you. Please.”

 

Erlen’s face was contorted in something like pain, he was holding back his tears really well, and Fíli had to give it to him; whereas Fíli was a mess of tears and battered breath. He was trying so hard to keep all of his emotions in check, but with his moon so close, he was off. “You called me dwarrow.”

 

“What?” Erlen asked, rubbing Eruil’s back as he chewed on his finger.

 

“You called me a dwarrow. Not carrier.” Fíli wiped at his tears. “I don’t like being compared to a female. I never have,  _sniff,_ I used to get teased a lot because of it. My hair is an unnatural color for dwarves in the south. Even though I have my Watcher token and my-my status, they still called me ‘pretty’ an such. But you just called me dwarrow.”

 

It was a ridiculous thing to be upset about, or emotional, but that was Fíli’s anchor at the moment. He wiped at his tears and reached a hand for his son to grab, a mess of drool covering his hand. He sniffed again and let himself be pulled in by Erlen.

 

“Oh, Fíli. Of course you’re dwarrow.” Erlen kissed the top of his head. “There’s no mistaking your masculinity. I called you ‘pretty’ and (quieter) ‘princess’, but I never thought-  _sigh_ , I never meant  to offend you. You just drive me crazy with your looks and attitude.”

 

“What attitude?” Fíli’s right arm squeezed around Erlen’s middle and Eruil promptly tried to smother his papa in the group hug.

 

“The ‘can’t touch me’ attitude. You’re so full of confidence and surety. Your ‘status’ must have afforded you all sorts of luxuries in your loss of mountain, because you don’t seem fazed by your poverty.”

 

Fíli laughed a little, eyes finally dry he pulled back a little and focused on his son in Erlen’s arms. “It’s not that. I told you last night. I’m used to getting what I want through hard work. I don’t have that swagger.”

 

“Yes, you do. I’ll set up mirrors in the house and you can watch yourself walk.” Erlen kissed his temple. Fíli laughed at Erlen and ducked his head in embarrassment. “And then you do that and  _that_  is what makes you pretty. But if you don’t like for me to call you that, I won’t.”

 

“Maybe not in public.” Fíli finally conceded after a pause. He smiled, looked up to Erlen and kissed him on the lips. He was lost in this embrace, their new, mish-mash family secreted from the world.

 

Then a nosy grandfather just had to say something to break the spell that Erlen had weaved around Fíli.

 

“Are they always this open with their bickering?” The old man asked his daughter.

 

“Yes, unfortunately.” Fíli felt the daggers in his back that Erska was glaring at him. “They just surrendered to each other last night. Loudest night this house has had in a while.”

 

Fíli hid his blushing face in Erlen’s embrace, chest rumbling with a chuckle.

 

 

–

 

 

Lunch was served, broth soup and biscuits, and the residents of the hostel found out the identity of the mysterious man-girl. Who wasn't a man-girl, she was a dwarrowdam with Man's heritage. She was from one of the families from Iron Hills, traveled up north after the war.

 

“War?” Bilbo and Fíli asked in unison. Perhaps those dwarves were right, perhaps Erebor had come under seige. 

 

“Oh, aye. Lord Dáin and his soldiers marched their way west to assist the king, Thrór or other.” 

 

“Thorin.” Bilbo corrected. She looked over to Fíli who was beginning to look more and more pale. 

 

“I suppose that's who the southern king is. I thought Thrór was the king? What happened to him?” The old man asked around a soup bone. 

 

Annishuk, the girl, and Dako, Erlen's grandfather, waited for the southerners to fill them in. Bilbo looked over to Fíli before she answered, she wanted to make sure that she had gotten it all right, but she also knew she couldn't ask him for help in names. 

 

“Well, Thrór was king, before the dragon, Smaug, attacked. He was, assumedly, a fire drake from here in the north. When he descended upon them, all of Erebor was lost. Her people fled from the mountain and wondered the wilderness. Thrór eventually decided to reconquer Moria, which had been over taken by orcs.”

 

“What're orcs?” The northerners asked in near unison. 

 

A small voice, coming from Annishuk, answered, “They're beasts who've been born from the darkness of the earth. They are legends of sorts, derived from the tortured hosts of elves from ages past. They live to destroy all of civilization. They aren't here in the north because it would be too cold for them. They have their fire-mountain in the south, their war posts in the mountains, and scattered bands in the Wilderness.”

 

Bilbo and Fíli nodded their heads in agreement. They were terrible beasts, but they were also surprised when the northerners had never heard of them. 

 

“When king Thrór ordered his host to attack Moria, they were severely outnumbered. Thrór lost his life to a Gundabad orc, Azog, Thrain, Thrór's heir and son, lost his mind and ran from the battle. Only Thorin, son of Thrain, had survived. But they hadn't reclaimed their ancient halls. Instead, they had retreated, many lives lost to the orcs, and regathered in the Blue Mountains.

 

“That's where Fíli's family is from.” Bilbo finished her story and looked around the table at the spell bound dwarves. 

 

Dako was attempting to watch Bilbo and the same time as lifting his soup to his mouth, either missing it or spilling most before comically wrapping thin lips around the metal spoon. Annishuk was just as entranced at Bilbo's telling. The hobbit looked over to Fíli and found that the lad was the same as them. 

 

“What happened after that?” Dako asked.

 

“We were all spread across the Wilds. But, how do you know of our histories?” Annishuk looked to Fíli for her answer. 

 

“What's a 'gundubadorc'?” Erska asked.

 

“What happened to Thorin now?” Erlen inquired. 

 

“The king has reclaimed his homeland, taking gold and honor with him.” Fíli answered Erlen's question. “Bilbo and I were a part of the King's Company. We dwarves traveled from the Blue Mountains to the Shire where we found Bilbo.”

 

Fíli smiled at the memory of their first meeting. Bilbo had been making the silliest, surprised face he'd ever seen. He'd found it hilarious that she had been so overwhelmed with only two dwarves before meeting he and his brother. Bilbo, though, had a different tale to tell. 

 

“Oh! Found, yes, indeed. You unruly dwarves and your ruckus and your thieving, you robbed me from my home right after you ate all my food stores! That was supposed to last me all winter!” Bilbo shook her finger at Fíli. 

 

Thinking back on all the years she'd been in the lad's company, and the months traveling with The Company, she'd never once given any of them a piece of her mind. 

 

“That pantry was more full than this one!” Fíli pointed to the landing behind him, indicating the pantry one level down.

 

“And let me tell you, there were many foods, prize winning foods, I was sorely looking forward to enjoying. But no! You dwarves and your appetites and your plate throwing, and your singing, OH! You about cost me my home and sanity. In fact, I'm sure I still don't have both. I'd thank you very much if you'd been even a smidgen apologetic about it all.”

 

“I am sorry! We didn't know you were planning to _not_ come with us.” Fíli smiled and wrapped the hobbit in a half hug, “Aunt, you know we would have paid you back. Why your share-”

 

“Is gone, now.” 

 

And that ended the jovial story telling and teasing. A heavy cloud settled over the fuller table. The two new dwarves apprehensive at the rowdiness of the southerners, ther Er' family only smirking. 

 

“What share?” Erlen asked, stabbing a gentle elbow in Fíli's side. 

 

“It's nothing.” Fíli replied. He turned back to his soup and finished it in near silence. 

 

The table had grown quiet, except where Nirin had started to throw her veg across the table to Erskin. The look received from Eruil didn't stop the two children. Nirin giggled and called the younger red-head's name and threw more soup with her spoon. Bilbo was too depressed to care what her child did. 

 

Nirin's bright blue eyes and growing black curls had already reminded her too much of that surly dwarf. Her heart had bled too much for someone who wasn't willing to give up gold, a stone, for her. 

 

“That can't have been the end of your adventure, lass.” Doka prompted. “Yer a wonderful story-teller. I'm sure these two have heard of your story, but I would like to hear it.”

 

Meddlesome elders. Grandmother Took had been the same, always trying to get Bilbo to come out of her shell. 

 

“No, we have't heard any of this. We'd always wondered where you two have met.” Erska kept on. She looked like she was honestly enjoying the story. 

 

Bilbo looked over to Fíli again, asking silently for his permission. He seemed more interested in the story than any one else. 

 

“Well, then, it seems I have no choice.” Bilbo took Nirin's spoon away and signed to Erskin to clean up the mess they had made. The boy rolled his eyes but did as he was 'told'. Nirin tried fighting her mother with the food when Bilbo took it away from her for good. “Sit. Behave. Now, then. Where should I begin?”

 

“Start with when Mister Dwalin first showed up! He had to have scared you when he came up to your door!” Fíli settled himself next to Erlen, pushing away his food and grabbing at the barley water he and the red-head were sharing. Erlen rested his hand on Fíli's hip and looked down at him where the blond coudn't see him. 

 

Bilbo thought it was entirely sweet how in love they were. Or, rather, how easy it really was for Fíli to accept that he could fall in love. 

 

She had been told how scared her nephew was of falling for anyone. How he had been so frigid towards any suitor who'd shown interest in him and that had nothing to do with what happened to him in Mirkwood. Being a Watcher had it's dangers, he wouldn't have felt too comfortable with 'working' and leaving his family behind. Even if his partner was as capable as his brother, there was no way that Fíli could be sure of his family's safety. There would always be someone better than him. 

 

So Fíli had closed his heart off, sure that, after the banishment, he couldn't ever find anyone else he could be comfortable enough with. But when Erlen had confessed to the austere dwarf, it had shaken his world and his belief that there couldn't be anyone more appropriate as a partner than Erlen. The dwarf had broken a woman's back just by squeezing her. Fíli admitted that not even Dwalin could do that. And she would believe him in that. 

 

Watching those two, who were so right for each other but always out of sync, had been painful to watch. Heart wrenching and stressful. One minute they were (currently in their relationship anyways) all over one another, draped or touching and kissing, and the next they were arguing on who said what and what it may have or may have not meant. Bilbo internally rolled her eyes at the two idiots and prepared her story.

 

“I suppose I should begin by the visiting of a wizard named Tharkún...”

 

–

 

The children were playing and more people had appeared before dinner with all their ropes of hair, beads of bone and metal, and their tattoos. Erska had loosened up a little, after witnessing during another spat between her son and Bilbo's nephew how Fíli really was trying to work on his anger. Erlen was actually taking his time to explain what he meant when Fíli would take a counting breath and let the taller dwarf make him understand. They struggled, but they were both making it work, somehow. 

 

The animals were brought back in to the stocks and the boys, Doka, Shuri (a young father of twins), Karsa (Shuri's brother), and Erlen, came back up dirty and smelling of sweat and manure. Fíli was forced, by norther custom he was willing to learn, to stay upstairs and help the women and carriers in the kitchen with either the children or cooking. Annishuk, Makseth (Shuri's wife), Ghel (Karsa's expecting husband), and Ghel's eldest daughter, Doreth along with Bilbo, Erska and Fíli chopped, sliced, cooked, and swaddled until the dwarrows came back in the kitchen dragging their stench with them.  


The carriers laughed and shooed the men away from the plated food. Fíli, used to the smell, stole a kiss from Erlen before tending back to the swaddling, he just had to catch the rambunctious twins. 

 

It was just the type of extended family domesticity that Bilbo was used to, and she was ever so grateful to Fíli for teaching her Khuzdul (they were already banished, why not break a few more laws) because no one besides Erska and Fíli could speak Westron.

 

Bilbo did feel bad, when she found out why it was a law as to why outsiders couldn't learn Khuzdul, but she couldn't quite bring herself to care too much. She re-told her afternoon story, Fíli filling in with his versions of what happened or chiming in with a witty phrase or two. It was domestic bliss, being surrounded by family members (though they weren't her family, Bilbo still felt more included here, with these strangers of a different race, than she ever had around the Baggins' table). 

 

It must have been a dwarven custom to throw food after knocking back a few ales. Mugs were passed around, pipes taken outside to smoke, the males told raunchy stories and the women tried to beat them with their own. Bilbo occasionally looked over to Fíli and Erlen and just watched how they reacted to one another. It was different, yet the same, how aware they were of how much space the other occupied. Erlen would shift a hip and Fíli would subconsciously reply in kind. They were perfectly aligned when they weren't aware of the other. It was like they were made for each other, but their past kept them from completely fitting together like they should. 

 

Bilbo missed that. She missed being a fitted cog (Thorin's words, not hers), sitting next to him and-

 

“So Ghel took the knife and sliced the gullet before I could tell him it wasn't a good idea.” Karsa, a sandy red-head with silver clasps, told a story on his husband. 

 

“It wasn't a good idea and you should have told me before you gave me the knife!” Ghel, a gentle, soft spoken blonde with southern braids as many as there were dreds in Karsa's hair, countered jovially. 

 

Bilbo waited for most of the laughter to die down before she interrupted the young couple. She grabbed the attention of Doka, “You were talking earlier of a war, in the south. Tell me about it. What of the king?”  


The room grew quiet. Shuri and Makseth were the only other's besides Doka, who had gone down south to trade. They shifted their eyes and wondered briefly if they should tell the kind hobbit.

 

“Well, you know of how the dragon was defeated by the men. Right?” Shuri asked, Makseth was standing behind him about ready to give him his last (and she means it!) mug of ale. 

 

“Actually,” Bilbo looked over to Fíli. 

 

“Not really. We hadn't known what happened to the wyrm after it took from Erebor. It had been at least a month after it's fall that we were banished.” Fíli had taken care to explain to the other dwarves the terms of his and Bilbo's banishment. Whereas a typical banishment would include isolation from the rest of the race of dwarves, they were only forbidden to never speak the names of their family. And for Bilbo it didn't include anyone in The Company, so really, only Fíli couldn't speak of anyone. 

 

“Well,” Makseth started, seating herself as she gave her husband a nasty look for downing the ale in four gulps, “it was a man, by the name of Berd,”

 

“Bard,” Fíli corrected, “Bard the Bowman, we know him.”

 

“Bard, then, he had a black arrow which took the beast down. There was a scale missing in his armor, apparently a sparrow told him. How silly.”

 

“There was a scale missing. I remember seeing it.” Bilbo looked to Fíli before continuing, “Enough about the dragon though, what about the war?”

 

Doka raised his hand to cut Markseth off, she leaned back, respectfully, and allowed the elder to finish the story. 

 

“Once the dragon was taken care o', all manner of armies converged on that little mountain,” Fíli bristled at the belittlement of the _Lonely_ Mountain, these northerners were as about as far removed as one could get. “The city of men, Bard led them, alongside the elves, King Thranduil and his men(Erska, Erlen and Bilbo looked at Fíli, practically giving him away), then there was Dain Ironfoot who wanted that mountain,”

 

“That's a lie!” Fíli slammed a hand on the table, the children underfoot were startled and all six of them began crying. Erskin and Doreth ducked down to help sooth them, Fíli kept on. “The Lord of the Iron Hills is a cousin to the King! He would never try to usurp him! _He wouldn't dare!_ You must have it wrong.”

 

Fíli glared down Doka, Erlen trying to pull him back into his seat and into silence. Silence if not to calm down then to keep Erska's glare at bay. But the proud southern dwarf didn't mind at all, he was a prince and he  _ was _ used to getting his way. 

 

“I haven't, I've had personal trade with Dain, I think I'd know if he were able to attack his own kin for that mountain of gold.” Doka said calmly, sipping at his ale and smacking his lips quietly. “Dain descended on the king – Thorin, you said his name was – but he eventually lent aide instead. Something about a contract being upheld. Anyhow, while the king was negotiating the cessation of gold to the elves and men they were suddenly attacked by orcs.

 

“They were caught almost unawares, the headships were in a meeting deep within the mountain, and by the time the kings, lords and generals were made aware of the attack, about a fifth of the combined ranks were decimated. The kings made a quick agreement of war and retaliated against the orcs. They were no more than able to get a strong foot hold when the goblins decided to converge on the alliance. More men, elves, and dwarves died than Azanulbizar. 

 

“They were about to be killed off when the white orc – Bolg I tink his name were – attacked prince and king, slaughtering through the ranks.”

 

“NO!” Fíli jumped up, heart pounding. “NO! It can't be! Tell me they lived! Tell me the prince lives!”

 

The blonde was in tears, his panic about ready to set in. The northerners took his panic as a sign of fealty and thought nothing more of it. For some reason Fíli never told anyone who he really was. And he didn't want them to know yet. 

 

“TELL ME! Please!” Fíli sobbed, crumpling into Erlen's embrace. 

 

“Aye, the tough little dwarfling lives. They both do. King and Crowned Prince survived, barely, lad. The prince took arrows to the gut, but he kept protecting the king. Thorin himself had arrows and spears from him when Bolg had begun to attack him. But before the orc could lay a blow on either of them, a great bear appeared. The tides turned as a wizard, your wizard Miss Bilbo, brought The Great Eagles. 

 

“King and Prince, wossername, were taken to the best healers. Elves healed them up, dwarves patched them together. Your king and prince live, laddie. 

 

“And that's some loyalty you have there. Were you a soldier in the kings' name?”

 

Doka pointed to Fíli as if he wore his honor on his tunic like a badge. But the blond was practically inconsolable. Relief, sharp and painful, settled in to his gut and shoulders, the ice still there in his panic, chest feeling bruised. He felt worse than when they tumbled down the goblin chutes. 

 

Fíli was pulled deeper into Erlen's embrace, he wanted to explain himself but Bilbo beat him to it. He saw how she was crying too and he suddenly wanted to be there for his aunt. 

 

“As you know, Fíli and I traveled with the King's Company. Thorin and his heir were precious among the company. We all fought for their safety.” She tried her best to keep the prince's name off her tongue, afraid of what it would do to the lad. 

 

Bilbo felt arms wrap around her and she fell into them gratefully. Fíli held her and they both cried. Fíli asked Erlen to take the children and follow them to Bilbo's room, he did. Erlen made the southerners' good nights and followed his lover and Bilbo down the hall. The hobbit was a wracking mess.

 

When will fate finally be kind to them and allow them happiness without ever hearing of what they had lost in the south?

 

Fíli guided Bilbo into their still shared room, Erlen quickly deposited the children on the bed and lit a candle.   
  
“Would you like a fire?” Erlen asked, quietly as Fíli helped Bilbo into sleep pants underneath her dress and removed her cooking apron. 

 

“Please, she likes it warm in here.” Fíli pulled her feet into the bed and tucked her in underneath the sheets. 

 

Erlen piled the kindling and the lit the wood shavings with his flint. It caught fire and he nursed the flame until it got big enough for blocks of wood. 

 

Fire roaring, Erlen watched the tired blonde wrap himself around his aunt and began talking low and slow in Westron to her. The red-head noticed the children were already asleep against the padded wall and turned to leave. 

 

“Not even a good night?” Came the quiet call. Erlen smiled and walked back to the bed and leaned down to whisper 'good night' in Fíli's ear. “And if I don't get a good night kiss, you can forget your wedding gift from me.” 

 

Erlen knew it was a tease, and not an affirmation to his agreeing to marriage. But he smiled anyways and kissed his lover as deeply as he was allowed. He pecked each dimple and kissed Fíli's closed eyes before whispering good night again. 

 

“I'm keeping my ear out for you.” Erlen said. 

 

“I knew you were listening to me.” Fíli said in the near dark room. 

 

“Always, love.” Before closing the door, Erlen spoke again, “Is that all you need of me, Fíli?”

 

“For now. Thank you, Erlen.”

 

Fíli watched as the sliver of the hall light disappeared and he sighed against the sleeping head of his aunt. Judging by the whispers of speculation from the table of northern dwarves, he and Bilbo were going to receive a barrage of questions in the morning. For now, he contemplated on the truthfulness of Doka's stories. There were so many inconsistencies. Who was Bolg? And Doka didn't know some of the names, or forgot who they were. He didn't even know who their king was! How much of what Doka said was true?

 

Was  _ nadadith _ alright? Was there a war? It seemed that way. What about the king? Was he well? So many questions and concerns about the rest of the company swirled inside his head. And despite Bilbo finding her quick sleep, Fíli knew he wasn't getting any tonight.

 

Was  _ nadadith _ able to sleep tonight? 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork: 'Bilbo of Erebor' (not to be confused with my other fic Bilbo of Moria). by [midnightsonlybliss](http://midnightsonlybliss.deviantart.com/art/Maiden-of-Erebor-443915032), who is, (self insertion here) me. Check out my deviantart page or follow me on [tumblr](http://tangebaby.tumblr.com/) for updates!


	12. What You Desperately Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili discovers more about himself. Elsewhere...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a surprise for you!
> 
> Hope y'all love it!

The next day found Bilbo more than groggy. She still felt as if she’d been crying all night, and if Fíli’s puffy eyes were anything to go by, he’d been crying just as much as she. She rolled over in her bed, careful of waking Fíli and aware that Nirin wasn’t next to her. Bilbo assumed that either Erlen or Erska had taken both children last night to give the two parents’ some more time. There was no telling how the rest of the house would take Fíli and Bilbo’s sudden emotions. They didn’t know everything about who they were to the royal line. And Fíli seemed content at keeping everyone in the dark.

     Bilbo fluffed her dress, careful at not exposing too much of her legs – such an improper thing to do for a hobbit lass – and made her way to the wash basin. There was clear and cool water in the tin basin, its geometric design a stark contrast to the floral ones she had been raised with. So much of the dwarven culture still surprised her, even after all this time. Catching herself being awed by the craftsmanship, the delicate work in the most minute details. She tried, and failed every time, to see how such large and fumbling-looking creatures craft something so precious most times. The star-cut diamonds and other gems in her satchel a prime example – smaller than her pinky nail, petite stones, gems, rocks really, that are cut to be made prettily. The care and skill confounded her.

     Face washed and scrubbed pink at trying to relieve some of the swelling around her eyes, Bilbo heard Fíli stirring in his sheets. They had held hands all night, Fíli never quite able to get rid of such an ingrained reaction. And the comfort and intimacy shared between adopted aunt and nephew clenched Bilbo’s chest like talons. Her heart ached at the sight of her nephew, at Fíli, a cast-away prince, being alone and broken without his crown.

     “Time to wake up, lad.” Bilbo cooed gently. She patted down her dress and decided that she would air out another one and wash this one today. She set about the room, gathering up Nirin and Eruil’s toys and placing them in the chest provided by Erska, and called out to Fíli again. “Sweetling, it’s time to wake, I’m sure everyone is waiting for us.” She wasn’t actually sure they were, but the urgency reached Fíli into rubbing at his own stinging and puffy eyes.

     Bilbo watched the ex-prince for a moment longer before reaching for her dress and strange breeches she’d come to wear like Erska. The breeches were flowing and formless, like a dress for both her legs, but the slightly heavy dress she still wore hid her discomfort at wearing such garments. She’d worn carefully long dresses during the journey to Lonely Mountain. It was strange now to wear the breeches.

     Lonely Mountain.

     Goodness, had it been so long ago that either of the carriers had been there? It had been five years, now, going on six that they’d last seen Erebor and all of its treasures. It was useless lumps of cold metal and ostentatiously shiny gems and jewels. None of it had kept Bilbo’s attention, save for one man, one dwarf, and he hadn’t even looked to her when faced with that mountain of gold. Bilbo would have given just about anything to have her lover back.

     “Where are the children?” Fíli asked in a mild panic. He knew they wouldn’t be far or in any real danger, but Bilbo knew he was slightly overprotective of the children.

     “They must be with the others. I’m not sure who came to get them in the night.” Bilbo spoke in a slightly teasing voice. She played off of his fears a little, soothing her mourning heart in seeing his needless pain. Something was wrong with her.

     “Something’s wrong with you, aunt.” Fíli smiled a little, relief showing in his eyes as he came out of his sleep some more. Bilbo didn’t answer; she only shook her shoulders in a huff and made shooing motions with her hands, wanting to change. “I’ll make sure they didn’t eat everything, then, shall I?”

     “Do that.” Bilbo agreed. She watched as Fíli made a slow way towards pulling on his boots and checking various parts of his body for weapons that still weren’t there. Even after all these months, he had habitually checked for the blades and hidden weapons. The only difference from that first week to now was the fact he no longer sighed dejectedly when he remembered he’d been forbidden for having his knives. “I’ve still to make your Eruil’s new clothes. That lad and shooting up like a ragweed! I doubt we’ll be able to keep him clothed in much for long.”

     “It’s better than him going without. He still gets the shivers.” Fíli folded his tunic around his body and tied the leather belt at his hips. “I’ll save you a plate, Aunt Bilbo.”

     “Thank you, lad,” Bilbo smiled and watched the slumped shoulders make their way past the doors.

     Bilbo should have brought up the possibility of Doka’s report of war being true. What if there was a battle, one that they had closed their ears to? Most men at Annuminas never got any news that concerned dwarves. It was one of the reasons they had stayed as long as they did. But what if, just, what if? Bilbo closed her heart again, wishing for everything to dissolve away into her carefully placed indifference. She knew she would be more hurt in the long run, ignoring it all, but she couldn’t afford to be paralyzed by her loss again. Fíli had already sacrificed so much in helping her out then.

     Shoulders squaring, Bilbo inhaled deeply and let out a quick, harsh breath. She could put aside her feelings for a while longer, mayhap another year or dozen, before she’d deal with it again. Did she have another dozen years? How long would she last in the blinking world? A hobbits age wasn’t dependent on their race, many hobbit lads and lasses aged at different rates. Her grandmother on her father’s side had lived to be two hundred and one, and grandfather was only ninety eight when he died. But both had _looked_ the same age.

     It didn’t matter how long she lived, not really, as long as her daughter had gotten enough out of her that she could. Bilbo just wanted to make sure she had enough to share with her daughter before she ran out of her days.

     Fili hadn’t really taken his time shuffling down the hall than he had wanting to avoid seeing Erlen. His face was puffy and red from crying last night, his voice rough and ragged, his clothes askew and not as fresh as he’d wish it were. But he was in front of Erlen’s door nonetheless waiting to find courage to knock. He blew out a rush of air and raised his fist; about ready to knock he wasn’t prepared to find himself with a chest full of dwarrow. Again.

   Soft brown tunics filled his vision as he craned his neck to look up to Erlen, the dwarf was smirking at Fíli. “We’ve got to stop meeting in front of my door like this.” The red-head teased. Fili felt something in his stomach clench at the flash of white teeth. It was a strange feeling when associating it to Erlen. He hadn’t felt this for the dwarf yet. “Did you need something?” Erlen asked seriously.

     “I wanted to know if you had Eruil.” Fíli cleared his throat and wanted to take a safe step back just because he had to crane his neck up to see the other dwarf.

     Erlen shook his head but remained where he was. He kept his hand on the door knob as he took in Fíli. The poor dwarf most likely cried most of the night, or at least cried himself to sleep. He didn’t think it all too strange when both of the southerners had gotten upset the way they did. They both had been forced to leave something behind.

     “Did you – wanna come in?” Erlen stood back a bit. “You look like you could freshen up a little.”

     “Saying I look like the wrong end of a cow, then?” Fíli chuckled a little self-consciously before tugging at his tunics and rubbing his face down. He knew that Erlen wouldn’t think he had taken his statement wrong. They had hit an awkward-acceptance to their confusing communication techniques. “I’m sorry about last night. It’s just this isn’t the first time hearing about the war. But it is the first time we’ve heard it in detail.”

     Fíli took a few steps in as Erlen closed the door behind him. The red-head stayed out of his line of sight and despite knowing who was in the room with him and knowing where he was, his training was keeping him on alert. Erlen must have noticed his shoulders tensing and read him wrong. Two massive hands wrapped themselves around Fíli’s shoulders and began a rhythmic squeezing. Fíli recognized the gesture for what it was and forced himself to relax.

     “You were worried about your brother. I get it. And the rest of the King’s Company, brother’s you’ve known.” Fíli felt a kiss to the back of his head. It was a novel experience, being on the receiving end of such open display of affections. He still wasn’t used to being at ease with it, not even in the slightest. But he figured, in for a pound. “There’s so much that you had to leave behind. I sympathize. But please don’t mistake my affections for pity or patronizing.” Erlen wrapped his thick arms around Fili from behind. “I really do love you.”

     “I don’t know what this love is. Or what it should mean to me.” Fíli decided to come out with it. He was tired of hiding behind lies. “I do- feel- something for you. What that is I don’t know. But you’re everything I’d imagine a lover to be. I suppose I am still thinking of my brother. I know I shouldn’t, but he’s been my sole reason for living, for being a better dwarf, that even if I try to forget him as a lover, I still can’t forget what else he was to me.”

     Fíli began rocking them back and forth, a slow standing march. It was a soothing motion he’s done for Eruil countless times to get him to settle down when startled. It worked on Fíli too, now that he was alone in Erlen’s arms. “Fíli, I’ll wait for you, for as long as it takes, I’ve already told you this.” There was a ‘but’ coming, Fíli could feel it building in the larger dwarf’s chest. “And I’d do anything for you.”

     Fíli waited for a bit, “That’s it?”

     “What else do you want?” Honest confusion in Erlen’s question, his arms loosened his hold and he half turned against Fíli. They really were going to have to work on their communication if they were going to be anyway civil later in life.

     “I meant that I hear a ‘but’ in there somewhere.” Fíli pulled out of the embrace and paced at the foot of Erlen’s bed. “Forgive me, but I cannot believe that you would be willing to sacrifice so much for me. I can’t even say ‘I love you’ without conviction.” Fíli stopped pacing and put his hands over his face. “You have to want me to do _something_ Erlen. Mahal, you can’t expect me to want to do something.”

     “What would you need to do? Up here, carriers protect the family at home while we dwarrows are out in the field or hunting. I don’t mind doing all the heavy lifting.” Erlen wanted to follow Fíli to the edge of the bed if just to attempt to soothe him. “I don’t need much from you.”

     “Except children,” Fíli interrupted sardonically. He tensed and regretted his words immediately. But that’s how Erlen was making him feel. He never asked for the ability to bear children. He hadn’t asked for any of this.

     “Aule, now I see what she means,” Fíli wasn’t sure who Erlen meant but Erlen threw his head back and guffawed. “What I mean is, I wish for you to have an easier life than what you’re used to. I would give you everything if you asked for it. I’m in love with you, Fíli. I don’t just want your children. I can be happy with Eruil. I – just,”

     Erlen took a few steps back from Fíli and rubbed at his face. “I don’t know what else to say to you to convince you that I love you, irrefutably.”

     Fíli chewed on this for a few seconds. He wanted to run away from these uncomfortable feelings Erlen seemed to be forcing onto him. His chest constricted as if he were short of breath, his gut clenched painfully (and it wasn’t his womb shivering with anticipation), and he felt weak kneed and light headed. Those can’t be good feelings to have for someone. Fíli’s whole body burned from Erlen’s touch, all he wanted to do was scream and shout at the red-head in the same way he wanted to fuck him. It was very confusing and very frustrating. He had nowhere to run, he had no Night Watch outpost to turn to, curses, he didn’t even have any of his weapons to take with him if there was a post.

     There was practically nothing Fíli could do about everything he was experiencing with this dwarf. And that alone was going to drive him insane at the thought of no real outlet.

     “I’m not used to being taken care of anymore. Even when I was in bed sick I hated it. So forgive me for not accepting that you can give me everything. Because everything I want, I can get myself.” Fíli stood still, hands on his soft hips. How he hated getting softer after having Eruil. Gone were his well-defined muscles around his middle, or even the soft bulge of libations after a binge.

     “Is there anything I _can_ give you?” Erlen said softly, voice cracking with emotion. Fíli looked away from him out of conviction.

     “Not right now.” Fíli answered honestly, going with their standby.

 

     Meals were shared with the rest of the inhabitants; Fíli and Erlen were back to slightly ignoring each other again. Bilbo and Erska had made some sort of amends, sharing turnip recipes. Ever one else seemed to sense Fíli’s tension and gave him a wide berth. The blond huffed in exasperation by the time lunch rolled around. Erlen and he hadn’t exchanged any two words that weren’t about work or requesting things for Eruil. Fíli’s son seemed to be the bridge keeping them connected, and Fíli knew that it was unhealthy, but he was at a loss on what to do about it.

     Erlen, for his part, didn’t drift away too far from Fíli when they weren’t working. Fíli had gotten used to his shadow quite quickly, but his training was still kicking in and he would get twitchy after a while. But Erlen would just rub his shoulders and speak softly to Fíli, and the most aggravating thing was, it worked in calming Fíli down.

     “Why can’t I just- do this?” Fíli gestured to the both of them after lunch. There wasn’t much to be done today, there was a late winter snow which had begun flooding the fields and front porch (and there was an actual porch). The animals were outside, getting as much fresh air as they cared for leaving everyone else inside. Most of the males were downstairs shoveling straw and manure, the carriers were inside gossiping of this or that and Fíli wasn’t prone to gossip. So here they were, Erlen and Fíli watching over all the children play.

     “You mean why it isn’t easy for you?” Erlen kissed his shoulder where his hands trailed to Fíli’s wrists and back up.

     “Exactly.” Fíli sighed, he felt like he was a sulking child, he gave up his pretense of pride and slumped into Erlen’s chest. “It’s hard for me to allow myself to relax completely. Especially around you, I feel like I should be doing _something_.”

     Erlen chuckled at him good naturedly and hummed playfully. He stole this rare opportunity and pulled Fíli onto his lap, the blond following with slight unease. “Do you always overthink things?” Erlen began slow, lazy kisses along Fíli’s neck. “Or is just because you’re so restless?”

     “Probably both.” Fíli tilted his head to the side to give Erlen more room. “I’ve always been like this. My uncle thought I would make a good general one day.” Fíli winced, knowing he had almost let something crucial slip.

     “General, huh?” Erlen nibbled gently at the skin behind Fíli’s ear. “Are you that dedicated as a soldier?” Fíli nodded his head, not wanting to squeak as Erlen’s hands rubbed against his belly the same time Erlen bit his ear lobe. “The trick is, don’t think about it. If you want to do it, do it. You’ll think yourself out of it if you give yourself enough time.”

     And wasn’t that the truth. Fíli wasn’t worried about committing to any actions at the moment, he was more interested in the fact that they were doing this while the children were playing, quit obliviously, and Karsa and Ghel walking into the sitting room where Erlen and Fíli were cuddling. Fíli forced himself to relax even deeper in Erlen’s embrace and teasing bites. It did feel good, the attention he was getting, it made his body feel warm and content, but the physical closeness was too different from the only other body he’d been intimate with. _Mahal_ will he ever be rid of those blasted memories?

     “Fíli, you’re drifting off again.” Erlen stroked Fíli’s chest the same time he rubbed hot circles against his belly. Fíli twitched from the contact, the hand on the belly seemingly more intimate than what they’d done so far, including the other night. “Come back.”

     Fíli sighed and sat up, Erlen’s hands dragging across his body as he did so. The blond southerner stood from the pillowed bench and went to collect Eruil and brought him back to Erlen with him. “He might as well learn the difference between ‘papa’ and ‘father’.”

     The young, forging couple spent the next hour teaching Eruil to call Erlen father in the southern dialect. Fíli discovered the northerner’s version was too complicated and long for himself, let alone his son who was still struggling with his syllables. Looking back on his own childhood, Fíli discovered just how far behind his son was to him. At this age, he was already teaching himself to walk, he was an accomplished conversationalist, and he was able to understand an adult’s speech. He wondered, for just a little bit, why that was. But then, he was half elf, perhaps they only grew slower. It didn’t explain his cousin, however.

     Hobbits, as far as he knew, aged quicker than dwarves. But Bilbo hadn’t even shown signs of aging, no streaks of white in her hair, sun spots on her cheeks, or the weathered skin of a traveler. He attributed that to the ever growing mystery of Hobbits.

     Eruil was able to get the syllables of _adad_ down before dinner; he had been marching to his newly adopted adad’s name all afternoon. Ghel had thought it was adorable, Doka smiled and played with Eruil, and Erska was still hesitant on accepting Fíli. But the young dwarf couldn’t blame her. She still watched him as if he would strike at any time, sure it aggravated him but if that was the worst that Fíli had to endure, he would take it graciously.

     The rest of the Northerners accepted him all too easily, wanting to know more about him, why he was banished, why hadn’t his hair been cut (which it should have been given the gravity of his ‘crimes’), and what was the most interesting thing he’d seen on the road. No one else knew yet that he was Night Watch, and Erlen suggested they keep it that way. Others weren’t quite as easygoing as his mother with those issues.

   “Your mother all but threw us out when she found out. How is that kind?” Fíli quietly argued before sitting down for the last meal of the day.

     “She let you keep your hair, she let you stay and she didn’t take Eruil away from you.” Erlen was startled at Fíli suddenly wrathful gaze. “Which is to say, she would have had a hard time getting him away from you, and perhaps she knew better after all,” Erlen shifted in place as Fíli worked on calming himself. “I wouldn’t have allowed it, though. Of course I was more shocked at the carnage around me than what you are, I wouldn’t dare let her get away with that.”

     “Good,” Fíli agreed quietly before moving to take a few steps out of the alcove they were talking in and into the kitchen, “Neither would I.”

     Dinner was quite a bit more subdued tonight. The different families shared war stories on raising children. Bilbo had more experience thanks to her sitting days back in the Shire. When she mentioned her far away home again, the rest of the rooms’ occupants wished to hear more of the soft rolling green hills, the birds that nested in her oak tree, and of her garden where flowers and vegetables grew. Fíli noticed her growing more solemn the longer she spoke and was about to interrupt her when Erlen spoke up.

     “Everyone,” He gained the gaze of everyone, including the children. “I have something to say from the heart and hope you will listen.” He bid them all. It was an invitation at tender speeches; Fíli had found out, inviting other’s to listen while opening your hearts thoughts. Or so the theory went. In the south, Fíli said, they usually say things with fists or knocks to the head. Speaking up over everyone else was just the way things were. And politics were just plain madness. “As you’ve noticed, Fíli and I are really close. And I hope to gain your empathy when I say that I’ve found my life-partner with him. It has been a rough start, and a tumultuous journey to get here. But I love him and he, I. But we wish to take things slowly and discover each other first.”

     Erlen’s golden eyes never left Fíli’s, the blond dwarf realized that Erlen was looking for any hesitancy or contradictions. Of course, Fíli had told Erlen that he truly loved him the night of their coupling, and he had told Erlen that he didn’t really know what love was earlier in the afternoon, and everything Erlen said wasn’t a lie. As far as Fíli knew, he was in love. And he would fight, tooth and nail, to discover what that love was. If only because Erlen was very convincing in letting him know he deserved it.

     Their foreheads knocked against another gently, rooting and nuzzling like a pair of wolves. This part was easy for Fíli. This he loved doing, rooting like this against Erlen’s face. He liked pushing his face back and forth with his nose, and it was such a common thing for dwarves to do that it was easy to take a head butt into a nuzzling. The resulting emotions and red faces that come from it were unexpected but still pleasant.

     “So when’s the marriage?” Doka asked innocently bouncing Eruil on his lap. “And should we be expecting any more little ones?”

     Leave it to the old people to put Fíli into shock.

\--

   “Marriage? Children?” Fíli paced around Erlen’s room in a huff. Erlen just smiled behind his hand. “We barely know what this is. _I_ barely know what this is and your grandfather want’s more great-grandchildren? He’s waited this long and he can wait a little longer.”

     Erlen sobered suddenly, dropping his hand and watched Fíli from across the room. Fíli stopped and watched Erlen too. “More?” Erlen asked incredulously.

     “Yes, more. He’s already got Eruil. Why would he want more so soon?” Fíli bit his nails on his right hand and dropped it just as suddenly. He kept pacing and didn’t notice Erlen practically tackle him from behind.

     “You mean it?” Erlen whispered gently in Fíli’s ear. “You really mean that Eruil is part of the family?” Erlen nuzzled the side of Fíli’s neck. The shorter dwarf lavished in the attention as Erlen’s arms tightened in comfort around him. Fíli nodded his head.

     “Of course, why would I lie about that?” Fíli was turned, gently, around in Erlen’s arms, “I want him to have a father, to have a family. And obviously Thranduil is out of the question.” Fíli tilted his head up to look into Erlen’s eyes. “I can’t have asked for a better father than you, Erlen.”

     The honesty in Fíli’s eyes drove in a different desire in Erlen than the one of lust. His heart fluttered pleasantly and his blood rushed his ears. He was completely enjoying this new side of Fíli, the approachable Fíli. There were too many days before where the shorter dwarrow had been too prickly to even approach safely, and now Erlen has Fíli in his arms. The younger dwarf was malleable in his arms, he was soft in places where it made Erlen hard, and hard as rock in others to remind him he was a dwarrow.

     Fíli’s arms, chest and legs were thick with muscle from years of training. The scars lent to his masculinity. And the only thing that broke that was the soft middle the man still carried. It wasn’t rippled like Erlen’s, not anymore; the softness had stayed no matter what Fíli did. Oh, he still had his strength, but his body reminded him every day that he was a carrier, and the extra fat was necessary. No matter how much Fíli had tried to hide his middle from Erlen that night, Erlen still found it the most attractive part of Fíli, physically. Aule, he got hard just thinking about running his hands across the lightly furred middle.

     “You’re getting distracted.” Fíli tip-toed up to kiss Erlen’s chin. Erlen laughed a little and pulled the younger dwarf flush against him. Fíli gasped as he felt Erlen’s erection.

     “Can you blame me?” Erlen rocked them back and forth in a parody of a dance. “I have the most attractive dwarf in my arms, how could I not loose myself with thoughts of you.” Erlen leaned down and took Fíli’s pliant mouth. The younger male didn’t challenge for dominance, instead, he explored how it made him feel to be dominated. And he found it extremely pleasant. “More specifically, thoughts of what I would like to do to you. Preferably naked. And on the bed. With me between your legs.”

     Fíli let his body convulse with shivers, well, not so much as allowed as he couldn’t do anything about it. His knees buckled at the thought of having Erlen on top of him, pushing through his tight ring of muscle and discovering his body now that they could think about what they were doing. Fíli moaned in appreciation at the number of things he thought Erlen could do with his body. “You know, I am pretty flexible.”

     The blond dwarf found himself lifted completely from the floor and in Erlen’s arms before he could process what was going on. He flailed against the larger dwarf and instinctively wrapped his legs around Erlen’s middle the best he could. The dwarf was so large around; he was really going to have to keep up with his stretches if he wished to accommodate Erlen’s width… in more ways than one. Fíli found Erlen’s mouth and sucked on his tongue before being tossed onto the bed.

     Erlen pulled at Fíli’s tunics and Fíli Erlen’s. Clothes were about ripped off their bodies and mouths latched onto the first available areas of skin. Fíli bit lightly on Erlen’s collarbone, causing the older dwarf to roughly pull Fíli’s tunic down and over his shoulders, effectively trapping Fíli’s arms in the sleeves. Fíli grunted against his bonds and thrashed playfully underneath the heavy dwarf. Erlen chuckled and began pulling at his own belt and trousers. Fíli groaned, this was going to be fast and hard, wasn’t it? Or would Erlen take it slower this time? What if he pushes in too early? Should they be concerned about Fíli taking with child? They aren’t even married yet. What if Eruil wasn’t ready to be a big brother? What if-

     “Stop thinking.” Erlen leaned down and suckled at Fíli tit. The hot mouth on his nipple paired with the lack of purchase to thrown the dwarf off made Fíli’s body light up like a stormy sky. Lightning traveled through Fíli’s extremities and down his spine in pleasure. Fíli tossed his head back and groaned at the feeling. He was getting better at allowing his body to react to Erlen. Erlen thrust against his clothed backside, and Fíli could feel the hot burn of erection nudging against his balls. “Now, how do you want me to take you?”

     Oh! How that set Fíli’s blood on fire. That simple question heated Fíli’s body so much, he couldn’t think of an appropriate answer other than to widen his legs and thrust his hips against Erlen’s. The moan that he was able to drag out of Erlen riled him up even more. His bound arms kept him from being able to reach up and drag Erlen down for a heated kiss, so instead, he gripped the forearms tightly and whined in the back of his throat. Fíli’s blue-green eyes anchored to Erlen’s lips in a silent plea. Erlen wasted no time in following his lover’s demands.

     The kiss was heated, sharp with bites and suckles; it was more like Erlen licking and sucking Fíli’s soul right out of him. It dredged up complicated emotions inside of Fíli that he would rather not identify but his body was turned on by Erlen’s actions. Fíli growled, not able to move his arms any higher than a few inches off the bed. Erlen had effectively pinned Fíli’s hips with his own and the constant grinding made Fíli’s member stiffen, his hole quivering with want for attention.

     “Just- take me, please.” Fíli gasped as Erlen latched onto Fíli’s neck to refresh the bruises he’d made the other day. “I want to feel you inside me.” Fíli was embarrassed at voicing such a lustful want but it had the desired effect.

     Erlen lifted off of Fíli with a smack of lips and dragged Fíli’s tunic even lower (but not taking it off of the other man), and began unlacing Fíli’s breeches. Erlen pulled Fíli’s boots off, the empty sheath’s built into them clanking together. Fíli groaned with the loss of heat and attention, but Erlen ignored him for now to take off his own clothes. Soon Erlen was completely naked and Fíli’s belt and tunic held his arms in place at his sides. Fíli wrestled with the fabric, it would be easy to escape the shirt, to attack and retaliate. But that wasn’t the purpose of his restraint. Erlen looked down at Fíli’s body hungrily. The red-head gave himself a few long tugs producing pre-come at his tip. The engorged head tinted red with blood.

     “I don’t want to hurt you, but Mahal, Fíli, do I want to mount you quickly.” Erlen wasn’t aware of how the word ‘mount’ made Fíli shiver with a dark desire. There were more of those idioms that Southerners didn’t use in love making. But the introduction of it now, especially knowing that they are ‘breeding’ in the north turned Fíli on in the most inexplicable way. Erlen’s furred body, dusty red hair on his legs, a wild patch at his groin that smoked up his stomach and bunched at his chest. His beard, trimmed and brushed regularly, and his ropes of hair that sang with beads and bells. Fíli wanted him now.

     Fíli wished he could reach his own cock, or even his hole to provide some release and stimulation. His thighs quivered with anticipation, his breath came quickly and he tossed his head to the side to look out the corners of his eyes to Erlen. He was as equally unaware of how much of a desirable vision he was to Erlen. Muscled and sinewy legs that thickened to a wide set of hips, his cock jutting out proudly from dark blond curls. The thin trail to his belly button and the heavy dusting on his chest as it rose and fell with his irregular breathing. Fíli’s beard was finally growing in length, his moustache coming in and his lengths of hair at his temple splayed against the blankets. Erlen lost himself in the depths of Fíli’s eyes just as Fíli lost his mind to the golden hues of Erlen’s.

     “I’m gonna mount you, strike deeply inside you and fill you with my seed.” Fíli groaned wantonly, thrashing his head and thrusting his hips up in invitation. “Fill you with my seed and watch your belly grow.” Erlen jerked on his erection, sliding foreskin over the head in circles, collecting his pre-come. He approached the bed from where he was standing, instead of crawling in between Fíli’s legs, he stepped up and towered over the laying dwarf. Drops of pre-come dribbled onto Fíli’s legs, the cold catches made Fíli gasp in slight shock. Fíli groaned loudly, realizing what was dropping on him. “You’re going to be so sore, _azyungel_ , you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

     “Fuck! Just fuck me already!” Fíli whined and thrashed some more, his tunic at his wrists, he wanted to reach up and pull that infuriating dwarf on top of him. “Fuck me before I fuck you.” Fíli said, it was an empty threat, he had found that he doesn’t top very well, he exhausts too easily and his breathing is too labored to finish. But he bottomed very well.

     Fíli lifted his feet up and hooked his ankles around the back of Erlen’s knees and pulled. Erlen fell to his knees between Fíli’s thighs. The red-head took his cock, squeezed some more pre-come onto his hand and pushed his fingers tenderly into Fíli’s quivering hole. The opened mouth shout of surprise and pleasure tightened Erlen’s gut at the sound. Fíli let his body relax around the intrusion. This was completely different from their first coupling that Fíli no longer knew what to expect from this man, his lover. His son’s adopted father.

     Thinking of Erlen’s new title as ‘ _adad_ ’ pulled something primal out of Fíli. His back bent, taught as a bow, and shoved both of Erlen’s fingers deeper inside of him. Erlen twisted his wrist and crooked his fingers to hunt for Fíli’s pleasure spot. He knew he found it when Fíli let out a high pitched wail, his body tightening around Erlen’s fingers, his hands wanting to shoot out to find purchase. The bed sheets suffered the twist of Fíli’s fingers as Erlen continued to stroke that nub inside of Fíli.

     Erlen knew Fíli wouldn’t be long, they, the both of them, hadn’t been able to build up a tolerance to prolonged foreplay, their bodies were too eager to shudder into orgasm early. Erlen pushed in another finger to join the first two and Fíli fell back onto the bed as the assault on his prostate ended. Erlen’s thumb rubbed against Fíli’s perineum at the same time as his shallow thrusting. After a bit longer Erlen introduced another finger and splayed his hand gently inside of Fíli. Above him, his lover let out an animalistic groan, harsh and deep and long and pushed out the sounds of his pleasure. Fíli’s cock twitched with every bend and stretch, the head weeping pre-come. Erlen smiled and leaned forward to lick it off before it could hit Fíli’s stomach where there was already a pool.

     “What the-“ Fíli jumped and flexed his hip instinctively towards the swiping tongue. The blond watched his lover slurp up the droplets of clear liquid, the obscene sound causing his cock to twitch away from his lover’s mouth. “What- are you, _ugh,_ doing?” Fíli’s head fell back down and he concentrated on the hot mouth on his cock.

     “I didn’t get enough to eat at dinner. Thought I could eat you.” Erlen dove back down and pushed foreskin back with his lips and exposed Fíli’s swollen head.

     “Not the most flattering bedroom talk.” Fíli groaned again as Erlen’s thick fingers splayed wide at the same time his lover lowered himself down on his cock.

     “It’s working for you, _azyungel_.” Erlen pulled back and searched for the vial of oil he kept in his trousers.

     “Not easily.” Fíli complained without any real emotion behind it. He squirmed some more on Erlen’s fingers. When the larger dwarf wasn’t pumping in and out of him like he wanted, he flexed his hips to gain his own pleasure. Before he could find a good rhythm the fingers retracted and he whined prettily at the loss. But it wasn’t long before he felt the enormous head of Erlen’s cock prodding at his opening.

     “Relax.” Erlen petted Fíli’s leg.

     “You try having something that big inside you, and see how you fare!” Fíli complained loudly but was breathing to steady himself. Erlen fucked shallowly against Fíli’s twitching hole, prodding at the opening.

     “I’ve tried it. Not that bad.” Erlen smiled down at his lover and watched Fíli’s head snap up with dilated eyes find his.

     “What!”

     “I’m just long enough, you know.” Erlen pushed deeper in and grabbed at Fíli’s legs and pushed them up to his chest, trapping his arms even more. “To fuck myself.”

     “OH MAHAL!” Fíli came suddenly, his hole clenching around Erlen greedily. Erlen gasped as Fíli tightened harshly around him. He wasn’t even fully seated in his lover yet and Fíli was already coming. Had he taken his word play too far? “Fuck you! Erlen.” Fíli panted out. His body twitched with his orgasm and a quick look below let Erlen know that Fíli was still hard. Good.

     “Sorry. Was that too much?” Erlen chuckled a little, trying in vain to smother it. “Did that thought unravel you so much?” Erlen bucked his hips a little punishingly; though who he was trying to punish was unclear. Fíli was too tight again and the blond gasped and groaned at the slight pain, Erlen sucked in a breath at his tightness.

     “Erlen, you bear! Take it easy!” Fíli’s words unraveled into a whine at the end. Erlen didn’t let up, because he couldn’t. Erlen’s control snapped easily around Fíli, and his lover wasn’t complaining too much when he thrust with more earnest.

     Erlen began building a rhythm where, soon enough, he was all but draped over Fíli, hands on either side of the blonde’s head, calves over Erlen’s shoulders, as he pounded into Fíli with gusto. The force of Erlen’s hips snapping into Fíli caused his to release a breath at every thrust. Erlen’s only purchase were the balls of his feet and his hands, he was all but doing pushups into Fíli.

   The bed rocked with their coupling, pillows thrown about and bed sheets ruined with the copious amounts of oil and sweat and holes where Fíli’s hands dug through. The headboard bounced off the wall and created a tempo for their lovemaking. Fíli’s voice was beginning to get hoarse from his growling and shouting at precise intervals. Erlen would grunt and stutter his hips to find Fíli’s other opening. The one where he desperately wished to empty himself in, and after a while, when Fíli recognized Erlen’s efforts, he pushed with his legs and angled his hips. Erlen’s cock head caught on the other opening deep inside of Fíli and prodded against a deeper muscle that already began contracting.

     Fíli began shouting even louder as Erlen fucked inside him, he could feel his lovers cock enter him again and again, veins and skin rubbing against him, his long, thick, hot cock pulsating inside of him.

     “Erlen,” Fíli gasped out around his shouting, “Erlen, please! I’m close!” Fíli flexed his legs against Erlen’s shoulders in warning. He had been bent for so long and his hole assaulted too aggressively for any other movement. His hands were still caught in his tunic so he couldn’t reach up and mark Erlen’s shoulders with his fingernails, but the desire to mark as he had been marked was there.

     Erlen’s head was bowed and nuzzled into the crook of Fíli’s neck, beard burns were raw and slightly painful, but the gentle sucking (not enough to bruise) was apology enough to ignore the pain. Fíli rooted against Erlen’s sharp cheek and bit tenderly at his jaw. Erlen groaned, his voice vibrating against Fíli’s neck.

     “Breed me.” Was the simple request made by the carrier. It was a dirty, filthy word to Fíli, but it lit him on fire like none other. The dirty words tingled from the tops of his head to his toes. It also did something to Erlen too.

     The pace that Erlen had set since entering Fíli was constant and slow enough in speed. It was more of the lovemaking he wished he could draw out to completion. But Fíli’s words ratcheted his hips into bucking wildly against his lover. Erlen snapped his hips harshly against Fíli, his noises rising in pitch, and teeth found Fíli’s shoulder. Fíli couldn’t take any more of being tied down, he pulled his hands out, which were ridiculously easy to do, and wrapped his arms around his lover on top of him. Erlen was breeding him, deep, almost painful, but satisfying. Fíli could feel Erlen’s hips against his, slapping skin on skin, Erlen’s growling was more like the bear Fíli accused him of being, and the press of Erlen’s hard stomach against Fíli’s softer one gave enough pressure for Fíli to come again.

   He came with a little bit of a warning, nails dug into the meat of Erlen’s shoulders and dragged red welted lines up over shoulders and down the chest to his rib cage. This was a brutal, just-enough-pain, loving. Fíli’s gut cramped with the power of his orgasm. White spurts of hot come painted his stomach and chest, the slick between their bodies creating an overstimulation on Fíli’s cock that made him cry. But the discomfort didn’t last long. Erlen’s body arched like a cat and he came deeply inside of Fíli. The blond carrier could feel the hot come filling him up. Pulse after pulse he could feel the come seeping out of him and rolling down his backside. He thought, in the haze of his orgasm, that he could scoop it all up and shove it back inside of him. But he didn’t even have the energy or strength to push his heaving lover off of him, let alone the small amount of flexing that would require.

     It was a silly notion anyways. He could feel Erlen twitching inside him as it was. He casually wondered if he was ready to receive children yet.

     When Fíli woke back up it was to a shaking Erlen cleaning him up with a soft piece of cloth. Fíli hurt everywhere, just like the first night. His stomach hurt from cramping in his position, his arse hurt from the pounding it took, his legs and hips for the stretching, and… dear Mahal, he just _hurt_. But he was also light as a feather. His mind was somewhere between euphoria and ecstasy, while his body felt like he’d been put back on the rack.

     “Did you really do it?” Fíli mumbled out in a half-sleep haze. His body was completely satiated and he rubbed a hand over his lower stomach unconsciously.

     “Do what?” Erlen’s head snapped up from where he was cleaning up Fíli.

     “Fuck yourself.” The blond said plaintively. In a half response, Erlen laughed gently, lowly, shoulders shaking like mountains during a quake. Fíli’s chest constricted painfully for a flutter of a second, the residual feeling made the blond frown. But Erlen didn’t see any of it.

     “No. Too big.” The red head answered. He crawled back up to the bed on shaking limbs. Fíli shifted himself on the bed, gently, tenderly, to make room for his lover. Erlen wrapped an arm around Fíli’s waist and the other curled under the carrier’s head and pulled him close, mindful of Fíli’s aches. After they were both settled, Fíli slapped a hand against Erlen’s furred chest. His hand remained there while he snuggled into the crook of Erlen’s neck.

     “Arse.”

\--

     Mornings came quickly, all too quickly when you spend a night building up a slow burn that went nowhere. Erlen and Fíli woke in the middle of the night, both hard and neither one with the energy or want to fuck. So Erlen took his time to discover the many areas on Fíli’s body that brought out laughter, moans, his pitched squeals (though pleasure or tickles was a tossup). Erlen found that Fíli was particularly sensitive on the bone of his hip, he also mapped out all of Fíli’s scars, including the ones on his stomach from carrying. Fíli was incredibly shy and nervous the closer Erlen came to his belly. Erlen only smiled and rubbed soothing circles and kissed tenderly at the skin there. There wasn’t a place on Fíli’s body that Erlen hadn’t kissed, and it left Fíli so light headed that he wondered if he would pass out from it. Erlen massaged Fíli’s hips and back with more of that oil and kissed Fíli’s mouth leisurely.

     This was more of the lovemaking that Fíli wasn’t aware of. Before, all he and _nadadith_ would do was a quick fuck or tug somewhere before returning to dinner or training. Doing this unnerved Fíli entirely, but he could enjoy it for what it was. He was spending some time with Erlen, for a few hours before the sun rose, without a single word spoken. Fíli would stroke Erlen’s cheek when he could reach, pet his hair and play with beads and bells. There wasn’t much Erlen was willing to have him do due to his aches and pains. Erlen would discourage most returning touches with a kiss to Fíli’s palm.

     It was extremely intimate and intense in its burn that Fíli was surprised they didn’t fuck again. But when Erlen was satisfied that he’d learned all he could from Fíli’s body, the blond opened up his arms and allowed Erlen to burrow into his chest. Fíli’s maternal instincts pulled Erlen’s head close to his chest.

     Fíli had wondered what it would have been like to have a male, his mate, his lover, his protector, near enough to him to feel safe. It wasn’t that he’d been too weak to take care of himself, though near the end of his pregnancy he could barely walk because of his swollen feet. Fíli meditated on what it felt like to have his lover near him, next to him, a dwarf who had made love to him and promised a good future. And lying here, now, with his lover and child’s adopted father, he could deign to allow those feelings associated with it to envelope him. He stroked Erlen’s hair quietly, imagining everything that they could be when Fíli decided that, yes, he was in love with this dwarf.

     The pair fell asleep at different times, but they both had smiles when they did. The same wasn’t true when their sleep was interrupted suddenly and almost violently. It was a good thing that Erlen was half on top of Fíli otherwise he would have seriously hurt the children who’d come to wake them up.

     “It’s time to wake up!” one child screeched as sharp elbows dug into Erlen’s back.

     “Papa says wake up! Breakfast is almost done!” Ёta, the twin to Ёten jumped on Fíli’s side of the bed, Ёten not far behind. The children piled onto the young couple with squeals of laughter and elbows as sharp as swords. Erlen gasped and giggled with the children and lazily began playing with them. Fíli, on the other hand was aghast at the brazen nature of the northerners. Before now, Fíli wouldn’t ever think of interrupting his parent’s when they were alone so intimately. Even if Erlen had forced Fíli back into his clothes for this very reason, their shared intimacies were still fresh on Fíli’s mind for his sake of sanity.

   When Fíli saw his son and cousin come waddling in on their own his face brightened and a wide smile full of dimples developed. Erlen laid back and watched his lover pick up his son, _their_ son, and attempt to tickle Nirin. The little girl was nonplussed but went to Fíli anyways, albeit a little begrudgingly. Eruil hadn’t let go of Nirin’s hand even as they were both swooped up into Fíli’s embrace.

     “Good morning my sweetlings.” Fíli kissed their foreheads, Eruil giggling excitedly. “The sun shines on you this morning. The day has started because you are here. May you grow to be as strong as mountains, as beautiful as mithril, and your beard long and healthy. I love you both.” Eruil giggled again and pawed at Fíli’s face repeating his name, ‘papa’, and kissed his nose. Nirin gave up all pretenses of pouting and hugged her elder cousin. Eruil began babbling about this or that with some recognizable words thrown in their at Fíli’s astonishment. Nirin kept trying to interrupt Eruil by pushing his shoulders and repeating his name, but Eruil’s attention was completely on his papa, until his _adad_ came into view.

     “What was that you just said? To the children?” Erlen had shooed off the other runts when he approached his lover and son. Nirin looked at Erlen skeptically and lowered her head onto Fíli’s shoulder as if embarrassed. Erlen picked up Eruil and bounced him against his hip.

     “It was a song that my mother used to sing. I can’t remember the tune, but the words had always stuck. After father died she stopped singing it, I picked it up soon after.” Fíli petted Nirin’s black curls and rocked her back and forth more to stretch his back muscles than soothing his cousin. She was chewing on her finger when Erskin came rushing in looking scared.

     “What is it?” Erlen tried to sign with one hand, the look said everything his little brother needed to know to continue. He began signing rapidly, pausing and collecting his breath before starting over.

     - _Zhenki is here, she’s wondering where you are at. Mother is serving them breakfast.-_ Erskin signed almost too quickly for Fíli. Erlen sighed and hung his head. He nodded to Erskin and asked him to go on ahead. The younger red-head hesitated before letting his brother know he could take the kids.

     “I’ve got it, Little One.” Erlen smiled and turned his attention back to Fíli.

     “Who’s… Zhenka?” Fíli inquired. Nirin began struggling against her cousin so Fíli put her down, she immediately began reaching for Eruil who squealed in his _adad’s_ arms and waved at her.

     “Zhenki.” Erlen corrected, he kept Eruil in his arms as the little rascal yelled and screamed back at his cousin. “She was my betrothed. Her and her father and most likely her brother are here.” Erlen said slowly as if the words made him bleed. He stood stock still, measuring Fíli’s anger. “They are here to plan the wedding.”

     “Oh.” Fíli nodded his head as if he understood. Which he did, he just didn’t like it. A cold fist wrapped around his heart and his anger rose. This was another new feeling, he didn’t know what it was but he wanted to kick that dwarrowdam out of the house with her kin. He wanted to tell her that Erlen was no longer available, that Erlen wasn’t interested in her. And though it would be the truth, Fíli didn’t do it. He was too afraid of losing control once he’d start. “And… you’re going to tell them? That you’re mine?” Fíli looked into those golden hues, searching for his answer there.

     “Yours?” Erlen shifted on his feet trying to catch a leaping Eruil.

     “Yes, mine,” Fíli folded his arms only to unfold them and take Eruil away from Erlen and put him down next to Nirin. Both children took off at a toddler run, holding hands, with elk tooth bracelets swinging, down the hall. “Just as I am yours, we promised each other (in our own way) that we’d eventually marry. You can’t have us both. That’s just too selfish of you.” Fíli walked up to Erlen and wrapped his arms around the broad chest. “Unless there’s some sort of cultural difference where you can take more than one mate and if that’s the case I’m gone.”

     Fíli smiled, knowing that that wasn’t the case. He’d been able to stake a claim and had gotten self-conscious about it that he began rambling. It had done wonders to calm Erlen down enough to wrap his arms around Fíli in return. They smiled at each other in content. “I’ll tell her that it’s off. I’m sure mother hadn’t told them yet.”

     Erlen leaned down to kiss Fíli gently on the lips. It was sweet, slow, and with no heat, just a simple declaration, a promise and acceptance. Fíli smiled, his dimples showing, and kissed back. When Fíli pulled away slightly he rubbed Erlen’s back in a comforting gesture. “I’m with you, that, you can always be sure of. So we can tell her family, or you can, but I’ll be next to you the whole time.”

     “Thank you, Fíli.” They separated easily, gently withdrawing from each other to gauge their partner. “That means a lot to me.” Erlen smiled and grabbed Fíli’s hand and kissed it. “Princess,”

     Fíli punched Erlens’ shoulder before grabbing the back of his neck for a kiss. Despite what was coming up, Fíli knew it was going to be a good day.

\--

     Today was shaping up to be a horrible day. Recent injuries to his hip caused him to hobble down the green marble corridors. A scowl was permanently in place, where most of his subjects, soldiers included, would scamper out of the King’s way, Dwalin was his shadow. He and Balin were the only exceptions. And they were also the only ones to approach the King willingly.

     “Dwalin!” The King shouted, voice reverberating off the walls. “Where is the emergency? I receive a missive on the battlefield for my immediate return only to find no fire.” Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, was decked in his battle armor; blood (red and black) still coated the metal like rust. “What is the meaning of this?”

     “Your Majesty.” Balin bowed, “A messenger from the King of Gondor has only just arrived,” Thorin scowled deeper. “But King Thranduil has been meeting with Lord Elrond for the better part of the last week. His Majesty has requested your presence.”

     Thorin paused in his march; he looked between the Sons of Fundin and sighed. “Is there no other reason?” Thorin was edging around something and Balin knew to steer clear of it.

     “Tauriel’s pregnancy is rough this time. Lord Elrond had initially been summoned to guide her through this pregnancy. His Highness has attended court hearing in the mornings. The kingdom is sound; her subjects are as content as can be.”

     “Get to your point, Balin.” Thorin interrupted just before the wing of the throne room.

     “It’s the darkness clouding the rest of the world that is the problem.” Balin huffed, out of breath from the hard march. He had gotten considerably slower in his old age. And his battle wounds didn’t help. Dwalin stood a few paces from his brother, able to split his consciousness from Captain to brother.

     “I have every reason to believe that the Dark Lord is rising.” Thorin rubbed at his face as an attendant approached with his crown. “Tharkun’s warning had been true.” The King’s head no longer crownless, Throin continued, “We should have listened.”

     “There’s much we should have done, laddie.” Balin sighed regretfully. “But drawing these treaties with other kings was the right decision. Perhaps it was too early to head off to numerous battles with Erebor still on shaky legs.”

     “Perhaps,” Thorin agreed without fighting. Balin had been fishing for something. But the crafty silver fox kept his cards close. “Is that all, Lord Balin?”

     “Yes, Your Majesty,” Balin stood back and watched his King and brother enter the throne room after their announcement.

     Thorin stood on the green dais and waited for the court officials to quieten. He took a seat before realizing Kíli was joining him today. He was surprised yet happy that his nephew was coming around more often, especially when Thorin was in the same room as Kíli. There was still mistrust there, hate, and yet some sort of loyalty had remained.

     “Your Majesty,” Thranduil stepped up smoothly, his voice possibly more icy than their initial meet in Mirkwood, despite their alliance. “I apologize for withdrawing you from the battlefield. But I assumed you would like to hear this in person.”

     “Get on with it Thranduil,” Thorin bit out, eyes glancing left and right.

     “There have been rumors, as I gather, that there have been assassination attempts on a recently banished prince.” His voice was smooth, but Thorin found the other king’s eyes narrow in calculation.

     “That dwarf is no longer associated with this family.” Thorin spoke over the loud, raucous buzzing in the throne room. Throin resisted looking over to his nephew to gauge his reaction. “What is your interest in that dwarf?” The King’s voice boomed loud enough to quieten the officials and witnesses.

     “I wish to grant him asylum and protection. Should your courts or ruling have no qualms on the matter.” Thranduil spoke evenly. Throin fidgeted in place, not liking where this was going. That dwarf would be far too close to Erebor’s borders for comfort.

     “You know where he is?” The crowned prince asked, incapable of hiding his emotions. Thorin wanted to head this off before it got too out of hand.

     “I haven’t the faintest, Your Highness. But my home shall be open to him and his child.” Thranduil extended his arms grandiosely, as if mocking Thorin’s own lack of hospitality.

     “Your home,” Thorin interrupted. “What interest do you have in him to open your home and not just your kingdom?”

     “Do you really even care?” Thranduil challenged. The elf’s eyes turned from icy disdain to molten anger, the tightness of his lips his only other tell. “I am simply extending a courtesy by inquiring to your intent of action. A completely roundabout way, I agree.”

     Kíli stiffened, looking towards his King wondering what Thorin would do.

     “I agree as well,” Throin declared, he leaned back in his opulent throne. “You haven’t answered me, King, what interest do you have in him?”

     Kíli was astonished to see Throin still talking about _nadad_. Before, Thorin would rage against whoever brought it up and literally toss them on their arse. But Thorin was pressing the issue with Thranduil, why was that? When Legolas and Kíli’s wife, Tauriel, began trade talk with Thranduil, the king had been unusually kind. He never pressed for treasure, or any sort of materialistic compensation. That all changed around the time of the Battle of the Five Armies. After that his attitude, although hospitable, was still frigid. But it wasn’t the same disdain as what he’d shown Thorin and the company in Mirkwood. Thranduil’s attitude towards Thorin was confusing and curious.

     But more interesting was Throin’s reactions. Before retaking Erebor, Thorin had been aggressive towards elves and especially Thranduil. Around the time of Tauriel’s arrival, Thorin had significantly lessened his aggression towards them. But what had been the catalyst? It would have made more sense if they both swan together in the treasure room. But after the battle Thorin hadn’t even been in the treasury, he hadn’t even been hoarding the gold!

     “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Thranduil edged and Kíli saw the ancient being hesitate. His pupil’s dilated, and it said something when Kíli could see it. “I only care-“

     “Care. For. Whom?” Thorin stood as if to be intimidating, a show of dominance or aggression. But Kíli had known Thorin all his life, he knew the haunch of shoulders; clenching fists and wide stance meant he was afraid, but afraid of what? As long as Kíli’s known him, Thorin hasn’t even shown fear, not in public, not like this.

     “About the child. Children are rare in our race; we offer the same to Tauriel and His Highness’ children. I admit to my, hmm, attraction, to the former prince.” There was a buzz again throughout the throne room “To offer help to his child, protection, would be to help him as well. The assassination will include the child, and I’m unwilling to allow a death on my hands where I had the chance to prevent it.” Kíli about wept in relief to know _nadad_ still had support, even if it wasn’t from his own people. “My interest, Your Majesty, is making sure that Fíli-“

     “DON’T YOU DARE SAY HIS NAME!” Thorin’s strained voice echoed throughout the grand halls and carried below the throne room. Kíli could feel the whole mountain still from the King’s anger. “That name does not exist here.”

     “You have erased him from your line and your mountain, but he exists out there!” It was the most emotion that Kíli had seen Thranduil express, and it was a cold fury. “My kingdom will always be open to him and his children. And if you can’t allow this to happen-“

     “What you do in your kingdom is of no concern to me.” Thorin dismissed. He collapsed into his throne and began massaging his temples. “Just do not tell me this is the reason I had been called away from battle.”

     The turn was so immediate and completely opposite than what he was before that Kíli’s head was left spinning, and it wasn’t the first time it had happened. Lord Elrond stepped forward to introduce his invitation to some council or another, Kíli had just stopped listening, when the real issue had arrived.

     The involved generals and Kings had rallied together today to come against an evil brewing south of Erebor. Assaults had begun on Gondor, by Orcs from Moria. Kíli had been trying to figure out how to figure out how to manage this while Thorin had been on the front lines, but as soon as the reports were given Thorin had made sure and decisive actions. Kíli might still hate Thorin, but he could still be awed by his power and authority. He was able to see a situation, review his options and make the right decisions all within moments.

     _Nadad_ had been like that. _Nadad_ would have made the right decision without having to call upon his uncle.

     “You did well, nephew, in calling for me.” Thorin tore Kíli from his musings. “If these seasoned kings couldn’t find an option then there was no way you could have.”

     “I’m sure there was a compliment that died in there somewhere.” Kíli groused. All he wanted to do was return to his wife and tend to her. She’d had difficulties before, but this was the worst it had been.

     “I’m sure there was.” Thorin left it at that, awkwardly playing with this frayed tunic sticking out of his armor. “I’m proud of you, Kíli, for what that’s worth to you.” Thorin took his exit, Dwalin, ever by his side, followed.

     Kíli caught something out of the corner of his eye, or rather someone sneaking in the shadows. It was Nori, following his husband dutifully or doing... whatever it was the shifty dwarf did. The crowned prince took careful steps towards the shadowed area of the dais. He weighed the chances that he could place on Nori’s discretion. He was overly curious after Thranduil’s mentions of attempted assassinations. Nori was a shadow, and Kíli had heard what shadows do. Kill. Nori may know, being a shadow, if what the elf king said was true.

     “Nori, I need to know….” Kíli whispered.

     “I can find out more than what you need to know.” The tri-peaked dwarf replied just as quiet. But his voice set the hairs on Kíli’s arms and neck on end.

     “And what is that?” Kíli twitched.

     “What you _want_ to know.” Nori was still, and it frightened Kíli to his core at how dangerous Nori was at this moment. The ginger dwarf’s eyes seem to glow with bloodlust fever.

     “What is it I want to know?” Kíli asked with false bravery. He knew how to fake that. He was a prince after all and he knew how to bluff through anything. Nori moved, slowly, deliberately towards Kíli with a predatory grace and Kíli the mesmerized prey. Nori angled them so that Kíli’s shoulder blades pressed to the back of the throne.

     “ _Where_ he is,”

     Kíli gasped and shook his head, he didn’t want to know. It was too much of a temptation to know. Suddenly, arms encircled Nori’s waist from behind, the ginger just smiled deviously and allowed himself to be pulled back by his husband.

   “Stop teasing the lad.” Dwalin’s lips brushed Nori’s ear, “The king is occupied. Time to perform your husbandly duties,” Dwalin growled and dragged Nori off to their home.

     Kíli thought he would die of embarrassment; such crass and brazen public declarations. Kíli half wanted to tell them off for such indiscretions but the two disappeared before he could open his mouth.

     Nori had suggested that he could find _nadad_. But did Kíli really wanted to be tempted by that information? Kíli put it away from his mind for now. He wasn’t strong enough to not follow his trail. Kíli especially didn’t want to think about his child, out there somewhere, with a mark for assassination. Would their child have blue eyes like his papa? Would he have dark hair like him? Would it be boy or girl? Kíli hoped for Fíli’s sake it was a boy, which was the last gender they imagined they’d have if they could. A boy, blue eyes, dimples, black hair (oh they wished), he would have been strong with swords, a nimble climber and have a love for sweets. His first word would have been a curse. His favorite color brown, favorite jewel would have been a beryl.

     Kíli’s heart clenched at the double loss. His brother and his child were gone from him forever.

     The Crown Prince of Erebor squared his shoulders and marched determinedly out of the throne room. HE wasn’t going to ask his brother and child’s whereabouts, but by Aule he was going to make sure they were well. And if Nori could do that for him he would name his next son after the Shadow. Even if Kíli couldn’t be there for them, there were other ways to ensure their safety. He just had to find Thranduil first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to popular demand I had to make a scene with Thorin and Kili. Hope it's enough to hold you guys over till the next peek! I seriously wanted this story to be solely Fili/Erlen... but that's just too impractical! There needs to be something else! And here it is!
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed it!
> 
> See you next time.


	13. The Flickering Light in Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili confronts parties on all sides and deals with a severe case of butterflies.

“What was that you just said? To the children?” Erlen had shooed off the other runts when he approached his lover and son. Nirin looked at Erlen skeptically and lowered her head onto Fíli’s shoulder as if embarrassed. Erlen picked up Eruil and bounced him against his hip.

     “It was a song that my mother used to sing. I can’t remember the tune, but the words had always stuck. After father died she stopped singing it, I picked it up soon after.” Fíli petted Nirin’s black curls and rocked her back and forth more to stretch his back muscles than soothing his cousin. She was chewing on her finger when Erskin came rushing in looking scared.

     “What is it?” Erlen tried to sign with one hand, the look said everything his little brother needed to know to continue. He began signing rapidly, pausing and collecting his breath before starting over.

     - _Zhenki is here, she’s wondering where you are at. Mother is serving them breakfast.-_ Erskin signed almost too quickly for Fíli. Erlen sighed and hung his head. He nodded to Erskin and asked him to go on ahead. The younger red-head hesitated before letting his brother know he could take the kids.

     “I’ve got it, Little One.” Erlen smiled and turned his attention back to Fíli.

     “Who’s… Zhenka?” Fíli inquired. Nirin began struggling against her cousin so Fíli put her down, she immediately began reaching for Eruil who squealed in his _adad’s_ arms and waved at her.

     “Zhenki.” Erlen corrected, he kept Eruil in his arms as the little rascal yelled and screamed back at his cousin. “She was my betrothed. Her and her father and most likely her brother are here.” Erlen said slowly as if the words made him bleed. He stood stock still, measuring Fíli’s anger. “They are here to plan the wedding.”

     “Oh.” Fíli nodded his head as if he understood. Which he did, he just didn’t like it. A cold fist wrapped around his heart and his anger rose. This was another new feeling, he didn’t know what it was but he wanted to kick that dwarrowdam out of the house with her kin. He wanted to tell her that Erlen was no longer available, that Erlen wasn’t interested in her. And though it would be the truth, Fíli didn’t do it. He was too afraid of losing control once he’d start. “And… you’re going to tell them? That you’re mine?” Fíli looked into those golden hues, searching for his answer there.

     “Yours?” Erlen shifted on his feet trying to catch a leaping Eruil.

     “Yes, mine,” Fíli folded his arms only to unfold them and take Eruil away from Erlen and put him down next to Nirin. Both children took off at a toddler run, holding hands, with elk tooth bracelets swinging, down the hall. “Just as I am yours, we promised each other (in our own way) that we’d eventually marry. You can’t have us both. That’s just too selfish of you.” Fíli walked up to Erlen and wrapped his arms around the broad chest. “Unless there’s some sort of cultural difference where you can take more than one mate and if that’s the case I’m gone.”

     Fíli smiled, knowing that that wasn’t the case. He’d been able to stake a claim and had gotten self-conscious about it that he began rambling. It had done wonders to calm Erlen down enough to wrap his arms around Fíli in return. They smiled at each other in content. “I’ll tell her that it’s off. I’m sure mother hadn’t told them yet.”

     Erlen leaned down to kiss Fíli gently on the lips. It was sweet, slow, and with no heat, just a simple declaration, a promise and acceptance. Fíli smiled, his dimples showing, and kissed back. When Fíli pulled away slightly he rubbed Erlen’s back in a comforting gesture. “I’m with you, that, you can always be sure of. So we can tell her family, or you can, but I’ll be next to you the whole time.”

     “Thank you, Fíli.” They separated easily, gently withdrawing from each other to gauge their partner. “That means a lot to me.” Erlen smiled and grabbed Fíli’s hand and kissed it. “Princess,”

     Fíli punched Erlens’ shoulder before grabbing the back of his neck for a kiss. Despite what was coming up, Fíli knew it was going to be a good day.

 

\--

 

     Stepping into the kitchen, the first thing Fíli noticed was the small influx of persons within. It made more sense now on why the table is so big. With as many people as there is showing up by the time spring has fully arrived the table will be full up. As it was, there were still a few places open for adults to sit, the children played underfoot (where in Ered Luin, and in the towns of men, dogs would roll). There were no children to add to the already existing herd, but Fíli wouldn’t doubt that even more families would show up. It was dizzying enough keeping up with the names of dwarves previous, let alone the four new ones.

     Fíli assumed that they were the family that Erskin had warned about. Zhenki and her family, a father, short but proud, a real farmer as he was already covered in drying mud, a brother, similar to her in looks, gold-red hair, green eyes, thick dark eyebrows and stubby hands. Zhenki obviously was more endowed in places where her brother wasn’t. She had nice curves that Fíli assumed he could dream about if he were into dwarrowdams. Her waist was nice a wide for _breeding_ – as much as Fíli was getting used to the term, it still made his stomach churn with inborn distaste.

     “This must be the breeder Erska was speaking of.” The fourth, a wily old dwarrowdam stamped her heavy looking cane at the word breeder. Fíli instantly hated her, she knew he was from the south, she knew what it would mean to him.

     Erlen looked out of the corner of his eye to Fíli and fully expected him to instantly retaliate and argue. But he was surprised when Fíli only smiled, dimples showing, and made a grand gesture at bowing before the old crone. Erlen hadn’t ever liked her, for she always had something sharp to say to someone. Even his mother wasn’t immune to her tongue. Erlen looked past Zhenki’s grandmother to Erska and glared when he caught her eyes. She didn’t look ashamed or in reproach. He wondered what she had actually said about his lover.

     “That I am, Fíli of Ered Luin.” Fíli raised himself up from his deep bow, just as he’d been taught to do. When he rose, he half expected his beads to hit his face, he belatedly realized he wasn’t wearing ones in his mustache anymore.

     “And what is your trade, son? I suppose it’s in the line of killing, knowing you brutes of the south.” The Crone spat as if tasting something foul. “Blood thirsty, the lot of ye. Why I havn’ met a single one of you southerners who hadn’t killed for the pure joy of it.” She leaned on her cane, crooking an eyebrow at Fíli. “Do you have blood on yer hands, boy?”

     “Mother,” Zhenki’s father snapped. He didn’t say anything else or even tried to get after her. He stood behind her, silent and still as she sat hunched in her chair, tapping her heavy cane.

     “I have experienced battle against the foes of my people. I have defended my home and my family, against those who would burn and rob life from it.” Fíli answered politically. “I am not innocent, in that regard,”

     “Nor are ye innocent in another,” The grandmother poked with her red-hot tongue. “A whelp, yer already raising. Hm? Where’s the father? Dead or unknown, I’m assuming.”

   “Nay,” Fíli answered, he kept up his princely persona, though no-one but Bilbo knew he was using it. “My child has his father. We’ve found ourselves incompatible before I had realized I was pregnant.” It was all true, in the entirety of what Fíli was saying, but it was only parts of the actual story. Erlen briefly wondered that if the blond was this good at skirting the truth with the Crone, what would be the chances he’d already deceived with his words before? Erlen tried not to think of what else Fíli had been hiding. And even if he was hiding something, it’s his prerogative to keep it. Right?

     Zhenki, for all that she seemed as emotionally weathered as her grandmother, had the decency to roll her eyes at her grandmothers interrogation. Zhenki’s father stood stalk still, and the brother, well, he’d found something nice to stare at to his left somewhere.

     “And had raised him yourself? Without a _real_ mother’s aide?” The stab was direct and over the top. Even Erlen found himself wanting to throttle the old woman. But a tiny hand on his forearm kept him from taking that step forward. Bilbo looked up to him from her hooded blue eyes.

     Fíli had to take a mental step back and regroup himself after that last jib. A few gasps could be heard around the table and even Erlen behind him burned with fury. But this was nothing in comparison to the double speech and innuendo’s covered behind false smiles and more innuendos. Picking apart those words and seemingly well-wishes was easier now for Fíli. But with the woman’s direct attack towards his mother, well, Fíli had seen red. His vision swam with his anger and his hearing was filled with the tine of bells. He took a calming breath, subtle and not noticed by any. Fíli’s eyes narrowed and a wicked smile came into play.

     There were plenty of things that Fíli could say. Plenty of damaging words towards the Crone and her family, ousting Erlen as nothing but a puppy with a prize (which wasn’t true and would actually hurt Fíli saying it), there were physical actions he could take against the dwarrowdam as well. But all of those scenarios ended with him victoriously alone. Erlen wouldn’t be able to forgive his crass nature if he’d taken either path. He already knew.

     “M’lady,” Fíli began. “I’m not sure exactly what I have done to earn your wrath and anger. I plead your forgiveness, whatever my wrongs have been, and would appreciate a chance to assuage you.” Fíli crossed his hand over his heart and adopted a saddened look. Across from him the old lady was about ready to howl.

     “You’ve taken away my granddaughters only chance at success in this world.” The Crone stood with an accusatory finger pointed at Fíli. “You’ve stolen Zhenki’s right to guide this clan. And what do you know of leading a clan? Nothing! I’ve heard you are the son of a miner, what does a miners’ breeder son know of leading? Zhenki’s been training for years before she was of age to marry. And that boy would have been a perfect husband to-“

     “His name, is Erlen.” Fíli interrupted quietly. He’d halted her warpath with those four words. “He is not _that boy_ and neither is he some dwarrow to be taken advantage of for status. Erlen is a fine man with a gentle heart and a great strength. He’s protected his family and mine this past winter and I’ve seen him for what he is, a dwarrow who deserves respect.” Fíli had desperately wanted to continue on a tirade, but his better senses got ahold of him. “Besides, would not a female need to lead? What is a male carrier, a male breeder, to that of a true dwarrowdam? I hold no power here, I see no threat.”

     Erlen gasped. Was this it? Was this why his feelings for Fíli had been so complicated? Fíli was a male carrier, precious in the gifts that he can bare, but the blonde treated himself as if he were just another dwarrow. He didn’t respect himself in the way breeders do in the north. Nor would he allow anyone to take care of him because of it. But did he truly not see how precious he was? How, when they marry (because they will, Erlen could feel it) that Fíli- no, he doesn’t know. Fíli stood his ground, not even flinching in front of the Crone. Erlen lifted his eyes from Fíli’s figure and watched the old woman laugh suddenly.

     “You sure you don’t know what you’re in for?” She stood and stalked down the length of the table, not even looking at Fíli. “You take from my granddaughter and keep for yourself what you clearly have no clue of how to handle. Mayhap, that is why Erska doesn’t trust you, harlot. You take easily and disregard any respect for what you have stolen.”  

     Fíli watched as the family left, neither saying another word until the door slammed behind them. The Southerner stared after them and let out a heavy sigh. He could feel the tension in the air.

     “That… horrible woman! I can’t believe she would say and accuse such things! She doesn’t even know you, Fíli.” Bilbo stood next to him, lending her support as Fíli felt that he’d faced down Azog himself. “Why I have half a mind to follow her out and let her know that you are more than what you seem. Fili son of Víli, I will not put up with such naysayers and downright rotten old women.”

     “Half a mind, aunt? Thankfully it’s already being put to use.” Fíli smiled from beside Erlen who looked just as upset as his lover’s aunt. Fíli just sighed, quietly, and turned towards his feet where his son wobbled while trying to claw his way up his papa’s legs.

     “Well, my son, I suppose that’s one way to deal with the rejected.” Fíli scooped up Eruil and winked at Erlen. The red-head blushed slightly at the feeling of a sudden and harsh desire to take Fíli back into the bedroom and show him just how wanted he was. But, something was still niggling at the taller dwarf.

     “You know, it’s not just a female’s job to lead, right?” Erlen wrapped a protective arm around Fíli from behind and distracted his adopted son with the elk tooth bracelet.

     “What do you mean?” Bilbo asked. She was holding onto her daughters’ hands while she took demanding step motions to go forward.

     Erska had suddenly growled, out of frustration, clapped a hand over her skyward turned head and began laughing. “You funny little southernlings, a female isn’t the only person that can lead a clan. A breeder can as well. It does not matter if yer male or female. A breeder is a breeder and they have the absolute responsibility to lead the clan.”

     “That’s impossible.” Fíli argued. “I’m only a breeder, a carrier, a person of the-“ Fíli cleared his throat, “of the lowest order. Male carri-breeders aren’t considered anything near as respectable as females are. Male carriers aren’t strong enough to succeed where a dwarrow can after their birthing, and they certainly are too restless to be put together with mothers. There is almost no need for male carriers other than to look pretty at a duke’s side and embarrass themselves with lady’s jewels and a frock.”

     Fíli had practically been growling in the end. It showed just how much he was displeased at the actions of the other male carriers in the south. It was true that the carriers would be ‘purchased’, ‘bartered’, or rather exploited for the pure enjoyment of a gentleman dwarf who could afford them. Carriers were forced to wear the pretty jewels, braid their beards as a lady, but wear garments as a dwarrowdam would. It disgusted Fíli how he’d met too many carriers who, after they had given birth, had softened so much that they usually never shed their fat. Some grew to be as large as Bombur. They were spoiled, treated as a child but weren’t even considered to be equals to dwarrowdams. Even from those women who are barren.

     When Fíli had found out that male carriers were prominent on his father’s side, he worried that he or… well, that there was that possibility. He most certainly didn’t want to end up like most of those carriers, being carted around like a prized animal or slab of meat, to be dressed up, plump with a child or after multiple children, and treated as such lowly creatures. Fíli hadn’t wanted that life, so he’d done his best to avoid pregnancy. But situations’ being as they were Fíli wasn’t any less proud to be a papa. In fact, he was proud that he was Eruil’s papa.

     Eruil was such a beautiful, handsome, and smart boy. Sure he grew slowly, but given the fact that he is half elf, Fíli had figured that was just how things were going to be. Fíli would never change the events leading up to his having Eruil. He loved his son completely and wholly that nothing could keep him from loving his son. And the man standing in front of him looking at him as if he’d completely lost his mind was a blessing too. Even if Fíli couldn’t figure out what he was feeling for the other dwarf, Fíli could see that the broad dwarf was good for him and his son.

     “Fíli,” Erlen practically whispered. “My love, how could you think so lowly of yourself?”

     “What? It is the truth and there’s not much you can do to change that.” Fíli defended himself, thoughtlessly allowing Eruil to literally jump from his arms to Erlen’s. Fíli knew that the man would catch his son, _their son¸_ without thought. “I’m still proud to be a bearer; Eruil was the best thing that has happened to me. I’m not as ashamed of my ‘abilities’ as I once was. I’m fine with that now.”

     Erlen wrapped Fíli up in a one armed hug, pulled the smaller man close and rocked him back and forth. “Oh my love, my sweet and beautiful Fíli, I’m happy you don’t think of yourself so lowly. You are a strong man, a wonderful dwarf, and a beautiful papa.” Erlen pulled back from the embrace to rub his thumb over Fíli’s lips. The younger dwarfs’ eyes dilated with emotion before his eyes. “But here, a carrier, no matter the gender, is someone to be valued and respected, it is certainly not because they are weak or incapable.

     “And a carrier, when married into the head family, can lead the clan when it becomes their time. I’m not sure how it’s done in the south, but a carrier, you, once we marry, will become the next chief. And our daughter (should we be blessed to have one) will be chief after you. Carriers are blessed by Mahal, else wise, why would they have the ability to bless their husbands?”

     It was probably the most romantic thing Fíli had ever heard. Unfortunately, you couldn’t erase almost a century of teachings. With everything that came with falling for Erlen, Fíli decided to take things slowly, accept what’s being said now, think about it, and then apply it to his life. It was the safest way and the best way that he could solve most of their problems immediately. So he nodded his head in agreement.

     “I hear what you’re saying, Erlen, I do. But what does that have to do with the Crone?” Fíli asked Erska. “Is she correct in saying that is the reason you don’t trust me? Or is it something else?” Fíli let that ‘something else’ be his identity as Night Watch.

     “Part of it, yes.” Erska finished plating up what was left over from breakfast for her son and his lover. “I thought that you were untrained in leading a clan. That you wouldn’t know how to. Still do.” She admitted without hesitation.

     Fíli didn’t blame her, he really didn’t. She didn’t know anything about him and she was right, he wasn’t trained to lead a clan… but rather a kingdom.

     “I don’t suppose there are many things that could change your opinion of me.” Fíli asked while paying attention to his son. Eruil was currently trying to pull his papa and adad together in his small embrace. “But I would like to try.”

     The rest of the morning bled in to the afternoon, and hours mingled into days, and days into weeks. Fíli and Bilbo were taught the finer points of farming. What was expected from a carrier and what a dwarrow would normally do. Fíli was expected to know both rolls because that was what was expected of him as a future chief. He had to know the places to which every person fit best. That summer Erska half expected Fíli to give in on his education. There were tasks he was given and were expected to perform as a chief would, to which he passed every single time. Fíli had struggled with the nuances of the northern clans, but he was never hesitant in asking questions.

     Not once had Fíli ever tell them who he actually was before he had been banished. He worried that they would eventually find out and apply that logic to Bilbo and Nirin. He hadn’t heard anything concerning the laws on that yet, but he wasn’t about to tip the Northerner’s off just yet. He didn’t think there would be any prejudices in that sense, considering how they treat carriers and their children. Still, the want and need to protect his family was too encompassing to let his guard down. In the meantime Fíli explored his feelings for Erlen.

     His desire for Erlen had shifted from a general lusting when Erlen would engage him in sexual activities to actively pursuing touches and caress’ from the older dwarf. Fíli wasn’t afraid now to show how much he appreciated Erlen, kisses on the cheek when Erlen got Eruil to walk without help, playful caresses from behind when the man didn’t know Fíli was behind him, to fixing him Erlen’s favorite dishes when he’d discovered the dwarf really loved his rib soup or wild rice and fish. What he didn’t expect though, was how much Fíli realized that he needed Erlen near him.

     It was harvesting season when Erlen decided to go hunting with Karsa and Shuri. Out of the forty some dwarves that showed up intermittently during the summer, the brothers and their families would remain, Ghel and Makseth were betting that Fíli was either already pregnant or would become pregnant and need to give Auntie Bilbo a rest from the hormonal Fíli. Dako bid Annishuk farewell as she moved on in her wandering ways even though she had intended to remain with the Northern family for some time, she decided to head out before the passes close. But while Erlen was hunting Fíli was going crazy with worry.

     “Honestly, Fíli, Erlen’s the best tracker there is. He won’t get lost or hurt. You’ll see, he’ll bring you back a nice young stag to skin and tan.” Ghel was near close to giving birth, another reason for him and Karsa to stay where they were for the winter. Makseth and Ghel were knitting children’s clothes for the expectant child and tittering over Fíli.

     The blond dwarf paced in front of the fire tugging at his beard in thought and roughing his fingers through his hair. He made Erlen swear that he would come back whole if with nothing but himself. Both breeders bristled for their respective mates but shrugged it off after the dwarrows left. Fíli almost tripped over Erskin, who was shadowing his footsteps and every turn when Fíli paused and tilted his head towards the door.

     “I don’t like this. Something is off.” Fíli bit his already chapped lips.

     “You’re doing nothing but hurting yourself with all this fuss.” Bilbo groused at Fíli. “He’ll be fine, sweetling, your Erlen will be back soon, it’s not even high sun yet.” Bilbo turned her attentions towards her daughter and great-nephew and drew images in charcoal for them to point and identify at.

     Already Bilbo had drawn a map of the south and her best map of the North, she drew the trails to and from the mountains, the pass that they took and Bilbo spoke to them of the glass-like rivers and streams of the Shire. The rolling hills she couldn’t color green, but she had sketched them the best she could complete with hobbit doors, chimney’s, clothes lines and the party tree all strung up with lights. It wasn’t anything close to what Ori could sketch, but it was more than enough for two toddlers.

     Eruil had grown like a sprout over the hot months but hadn’t actually passed up his cousin in height just yet. But with Eruil’s parentage it was inevitable that he would pass even his papa, if not his adad. But as it was, he was the smallest dwarf in their little hovel and he enjoyed the attention from even Ёta and Ёten spoiled him. Doreth, however, seemed somewhat entranced by Bilbo’s daughter and although she kept her distance to the children she paid special attention to Nirin and offered to take her when Bilbo seemed overwhelmed.

     “I can’t help it, can I?” Fili said to his aunt. “I worry needlessly, as you’ve always said, but I worry nonetheless. What if Erlen breaks his ankle? Or, Mahal forbid, a _harupt_ decides to hunt them?” Ghel and Makseth gasped. “Not that it would happen, I trust them all, but there is always that chance.”

     “You can’t always deter what you think may happen.” Bilbo tried calming her nephew, “Things happen and there is usually nothing any one of us can do about it. But you do have to learn to roll with it otherwise you’ll worry yourself sick.” When there was no getting through to Fíli Bilbo tried something else. “Imagine if he were only outside, you wouldn’t worry then.”

     “You just don’t hear me.” Fíli argued sarcastically. Bilbo was right though, there was really no reason to worry, but he just took his worry as acceptance that Erlen really was becoming part of Fíli’s family. He only ever was like this with his family. But it was still a long ways from admitting that he loved Erlen, actually and wholly loved him. But he was getting there. “You’re right though.”

     “Of course I am fauntling. Now have a seat before Erskin spins himself in circles.” Bilbo ordered her nephew and returned her focus onto her child and great-nephew.

     Fíli was able to sit only for a few moments before needing to get up again and be busy. If only the furnace at the smith’s had been in prime condition, or any good condition at all, he’d be able to lose himself in ironwork. But the furnace had been too severely cracked, the floo had been clogged, the building halfway dilapidated, and some of the more important tools were missing.

     Earlier this summer, spring rather, Fíli had been able to conjure up a list of items that he would need to get the smith’s shop in top working order. He had ordered supplies, tools, and a list of ores to get from Annaminas from the last smithy he’d been working with. He’d handed over what monies he had and Bilbo had chipped in where she had saved. Fíli trusted the dwarves going south to barter, sell, and trade with the southern peoples, but he made them promise not to ever mention he or Bilbo’s names. The prospect of more assassins coming north curbed the travelers’ want for casually mentioning either former southerner. Fíli hoped they would have been back sooner to start working but, again, with the smith’s shop out of order until at least middle of next summer, Fíli didn’t have anything he could really distract himself with.

     It wasn’t until the sun was about setting that there was the heavy swinging of the front door and the hunter’s respective lovers came to help them out of their bloody and muddy clothes. Fíli surreptitiously checked Erlen for any injuries while helping him out of his leather coats and boots.

     “He’s the biggest we’ve seen in recent years.” Erlen huffed happily wanting to kiss Fíli.

     “You smell, Erlen, I’m not going to kiss you.” The blond hung the coat outside on pegs to air out while he took the boots with him on the porch to clean them off. The men had did the heavy lifting –literally- now with was time for the partners to help them out. Fili really didn’t mind, he was happier Erlen and the others returned with no problems.

     “The fat was thick on them.” Erlen turned to speak as Erska came out to the porch.

     “What fat mean, adad?” Eruil asked eloquently for a toddler.

     “It means that the winter is going to be a hard and long one.” Erlen picked up Eruil and held the child to his chest. “When there’s a lot of fat that means he was storing up for a long winter. When there’s less,”

     “No winter!” Eruil screeched and hopped in his adad’s arms.

     The hunters, lovers and Erska laughed at a child’s logic. Fíli shook his head at his son and turned back towards the boots. But he grew still and silent as he scraped off the mud from Erlen’s boots. Eruil tried to engage Fíli in some sort of game that Bilbo had taught him, but the carrier was too distracted. Ghel noticed first.

     “Is something wrong?” The auburn haired breeder asked.

     Fíli nodded and turned his attention back to the boots. He couldn’t have been sure what he saw, but it would be unmistakable sign if he was right. There were no lightning bugs here in the north, so he must have seen…

     “I’m going for a walk. Need to shake out the rest of these nerves.” Fíli said abruptly and placed the now clean boots on the porch with the others. Eruil wanted to go with him, “No, I’ll be right back, my son. Just need to clear the attic.”

     “Aa-tick?” Eruil mimicked.

     “Attic. It’s a storing space above living quarters in most homes.” Fíli explained.

     “You don’t have an attic.” Eruil giggled in the most innocent and most adorable way. It made Fíli’s heart clench recognizing who that laugh first belonged to.

     “I’ll be right back.” Fíli said, kissed his son’s head then kissed Erlen. “I’ll be fine, love.”

       The blond turned just as he saw the last of the signal, a faint light flickering in and out of existence. It was twilight and could have been easily missed by the others, but Fíli had seen it. He made an easy way to the tree line, picking up a stick from the ground and methodically stripping the bark from it.

     “Been a while,” The voice said from behind a tree.

     “Too long, I suppose.” Fíli replied but kept walking and stripping the bark. “Is there a reason you’re here? Should I need to defend myself?”

     There was a laugh, it wasn’t evil and malicious, nor was it lighthearted and easy going, it was meant to put someone at ease. But Fíli had worked with this dwarf for far too long to not recognize his laughs. He kept up a leisurely pace and listened to which tree the dwarrow moved to next.

       “You know me better than that.” The voice said. “We’ve worked together too long for me not to know your patterns. But I must admit, I never expected you to travel this far north.”

     “Wanted a change of scenery,” Fíli felt like defending himself.

     “Pursued that hard, eh?” If the male was capable of it, Fíli would have thought that he spoke in concern. “Why didn’t you just kill them all? Make a statement?”

     “Did that a little too late, I waited till my son was right in the middle of it,” Fíli cursed himself for giving out so much information. In the right hands this dwarrow could send the rest of those willing for a justifiable death, in the wrong hands… either way, his family could end up dead.

     This dwarf was more a spy than a killer. But that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t take an opportunity.

     “The queen wants your head. The king denies it. He says your punishment is severe enough and she’s placated for now.” The voice materialized just as the twilight turned to darkness. Even though Fili knew what the other looked like, he still took precautions. If Fíli was ever captured he could honestly say that he’d never seen the other dwarf, and consequently he could say the same about Fíli. It was an old practice Fíli had to use only once. It was the longest three days of his life.

       “Is that why you’re here?” Fíli already knew the answer. They wouldn’t send a spy to kill an accomplished murderer.

     “He’s looking for you, your dear Kíli.” Fíli’s throat constricted. It was the first time in six years that he’d heard that name. He tasted ash in his mouth, followed by sandalwood, heather, and ambergris. The spy had only used the prince’s name to gauge Fíli reaction, the bastard. “The prince only wants to know you’re safe. That his child is safe.”

       “He doesn’t need to know where I am.” Fíli commanded him. He still held some sway in certain circles. It just happens that the circles are lined in blood and filled with other murderers, spies, thieves and kidnappers. “You will tell him nothing. If he suspects anything he will come looking. I know him as I would know myself.”

     “Could be that I’d seen some dwarf with a runt in the Shire.” The voice said in the dark, the sounds of nails scratching a beard the only noise in the night. “Could be that I took a detour, ran into some orcs or summit to make me late. Could be that I was mistaken, but a blond dwarf in the Shire would do, eh?”

     “Nori wants to know as well then?” Fíli made a guess. Nori and a few others including Dwalin were the only ones who knew that Fíli had ever worked with this spy, but Nori was the only one that ordered their guild.

     “A little runt, dark hair, maybe the blue eyes?” The voice continued on as if he wasn’t interrupted, his voice fading in the darkness even if Fíli never heard a footstep in retreat. “Let’s make it a girl. You’d always wanted a girl first. Rosy cheeks, the happiest smile imaginable, or perhaps with a wicked look enough to melt?”

     “Twins, then.” Fíli conceded. Damn that spy, he’d seen Nirin too.

     “And wouldn’t that torture the morose prince?” The voice was too distant now to barely even make the last of his words out.

     Curse that dwarf twice. Fíli was slipping. He hadn’t even noticed that he was out there, not until the flickering flint light. This meeting was a double warning. No, it held more warnings that Fíli was even comfortable with. So many things that he had to do to ensure that his family will never travel south. He had to keep their location a secret from the rest of the world. By now, the queen would be satisfied in knowing that the only female in the company had left without a burden herself and the news would mollify the royal bitch.

     The spymaster had never lied before, in fact, he took a perverse pride in always telling the truth. Even on the racks and in the midst of torture, the spy could tell the truth and still have an out. Fíli needed an out as well, and the mention of twins was the only way to protect Nirin and Bilbo. It was risky, but it would have to do. The spy’s ‘could be’s were his only way of offering a different story, and Nori would choose which of the tales would be safest for all parties.

     Fíli had to believe in his old teacher. He had to, if the prince finds out their location, that there was a second child, one that wasn’t Fíli’s, the queen would somehow find out and want her revenge. And by a queen’s rights….

     “Fíli, are you alright?” Erlen walked up to his shorter lover. The red-head was alone this time, Eruil having found something else to occupy himself with. “That walk doesn’t seem to have helped.”

     “Well, I may have found another burden or two to wonder over.” Fíli dropped the stick he had been stripping and began tying the bark together. Erlen gave Fíli a skeptical look before dropping his eyes to what Fíli had in his hands.

     “Anything I can do to help?” Erlen asked, eyeing the rope hesitantly.

     “Yes, there is,” Fíli tightened the end of the braided rope and snapped it open in a vicious display. “You can help me test this out tonight.”

 

\--

 

     Fíli lay in bed curled next to his lover. The red welts on Erlen’s wrists were already fading, but the ache inside of Fíli was just enough pain to keep him awake. It was still pleasant, to know that Fíli didn’t have to leave the bed or listen for footsteps in the halls. There was a feeling of completion, of knowing that he was loved, of knowing that he was safe next to the bear of a dwarf he calls lover. Their skin stuck together with sweat and the heat of the day, it was slightly unpleasant but Fíli was too exhausted to move and separate from Erlen.

     The large dwarf snored lightly, more of a whine than a rattle, and Fíli’s stomach fluttered knowing that he was the only one to hear it at night. Well, he and Erskin when the kid decided that he can pick locks and curl up at the foot of their bed. Luckily it had become a habit to pull the least amount of clothes on before passing out. Otherwise the children would be in for a surprise in the morning when they woke up the house’s inhabitants.

     The flutter in Fíli’s stomach grew as Erlen rolled over to show off the expanse of his bronze back. Northern style tattoos graced his spine and created the illusion that the edges pierced his skin and disappeared. Fíli wanted tattoos like that. He wanted some on his body where his most sensitive spots were, to entice Erlen to pay special attention to those areas. He wanted Erlen’s name on the web of his thumb and forefinger so that he could see it every day. Fíli’s stomach fluttered and dropped again, more heavily this time.

     Fíli closed a hand over his mouth as he felt bile burning his throat.

     “No,” He whispered into the dark. He sat up as quickly as he dared and darted into the hall and rushed out the back entrance in time to spill his stomachs’ contents. He dry heaved a while before he could gather himself. “No, no, no, no,”

     Fíli repeated and prayed. He couldn’t be pregnant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are manna!
> 
> I'm a writer, and I live off of comments, kudos, and the attention of those rabid fangirls that I'm apparently gaining. 
> 
> Also, if your not trolling your favorite stories and bookmarks like I am, you can follow me on [](tangebaby.tumblr.com>tumblr</a>%20for%20quicker%20notices.%20%0A%0AAlso,%20adding%20the%20finishing%20touches%20to%20Erlen%20and%20started%20on%20Erskin%20for%20the%20art%20pieces.%20Considering%20releasing%20Erska%20tonight%20in%20a%20chapter%20following%20this%20update.%20What%20do%20you%20think?%20Next%20chapter%20or%20part%20of%20the%20Watcher%20series%20arc?%20You%20decide.%20Look%20on%20my%20tumblr%20page%20later%20for%20previews!)


	14. Er' Family preview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a written chapter, but I had no idea where to put it... so, hope you enjoy it here! Still finishing up Erlen and Erskin. Just wait until you see Eruil!
> 
> Aragh! Too many Er's!

EDIT: A/N

I think its time for another peek behind the veil of Erebor. Here's some hints.

Who is this Queen?

What was Thorin thinking marrying her when his One is out there somewhere?

The Spy returns, a little worse for wear, and Kili overhears that there's a second child. Is it his? Or has Fili betrayed their love? 

Tauriel has got to have some say in their marriage, I mean, come on! Her husband still dreams of the day when Fili comes back and lives with them again. 

And.... is Fili really pregnant?

Find out next time on 'Sunshine'

(Wow, if I'd just shorten the title to that it would be sooooo misleading. People be like, Wow, sunshine, gonna love it! Then BAM banishment, murder, torture, OCs everywhere! Seriously piq, where are they coming from? The ground? Good lord slow down! I did save you guys from a bigger family reunion during the summer. Its autumn now btw.)


	15. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili finally get's his answers, but not all of them. He can't seem to care though because the Spy had given him more than he'd ever asked for!
> 
> Meanwhile, the exiled prince confesses to Erlen just as he's come to terms with how he's feeling. What will Erlen think of him after this? Not even Aunt Bilbo knows his secrets. Unfortunately it's only one of many secrets that Fili's keeping and under the golden gaze of his lover he wants to spill all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of miscarriages. If people have too strong of a reaction against this I will change it. I don't like it either but it adds to the character development. Also, listen to this mix made especially for this story at [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/phyliciam/i-promised-him) or listen to what Fili would play while pumping up for one of his missions [here](http://8tracks.com/phyliciam/marked-man)

     It had been three months since Nori had sent out someone to find _nadad_ and Kíli couldn’t keep waiting for an answer. Where was his brother? Where was his child? That’s all he wanted to know, that they were okay, that they’d landed on their feet. But of course, this was _nadad_ that he was talking about, the dwarf was a natural born fighter, he’d find his way in the world. And Bilbo, he should have asked to find her as well. He hoped that she was fine as well.

     Kíli was only slightly distracted by these thoughts as he had to sit in again for Thorin. His uncle, the King Under the Mountain, was very good at avoiding courts and kingly responsibilities. Kíli sighed internally as he listened to the same merchant as the week before complain about the living conditions of the High Quarters where the noblemen and merchants lived. The man dwarrow was just wheedling for free modifications his purse could certainly pay for. But Kíli had learned to hold his tongue and wait until Erebor’s subjects were done rambling before giving his say. But that didn’t make it any less annoying at seeing the same man week after week.

     The crowned prince, instead, began thinking about his wife’s possible pregnancy. He winced knowing that they could end up childless again, she couldn’t hold a child to term or the children would die sometime in the night. It made Kíli’s heart ache knowing that there was nothing that he could do about it. He wanted to be next to Tauriel’s bed side and keep her comfortable. There had been one surviving child, Alicin, a beautiful girl with dark red hair. But she was kept with King Thranduil for a healer’s attention as she was prone to weakness and unexpected blood loss. He was told that this could happen, that the inter species may not keep a child. But Tauriel had been insistent that she could keep at least one. And now Kíli just didn’t want to waste another life on a possibility that Tauriel could hold a healthy child.

     The dwarf had stopped talking and was waiting for the prince’s reply. It was the same as last week and the week before. “The crown cannot allow one merchant to expand his household to accommodate his belongings. There are storage's made for that purpose alone. I cannot in full consciousness grant you this request.”

     He’d gotten elegant these last six years. Six years, and _nadad_ was still nowhere to be found, no whisper of his child out there in the wilds or in the downs of the Shire. It had driven Kíli mad with the lack of knowledge, and quite possibly had driven Tauriel to wanting to produce a healthy male heir. Kíli had felt like a horrible husband and an even worse father to all of his children (surviving or no). The dwarf didn’t know how much more he and Tauriel could lose before they simply went mad. Kíli had to stop this, had to keep Tauriel from getting pregnant again after this one. Whatever the fates may decide for this child will have to suffice.

     After half a days’ worth of open courts Kíli felt more drained than usual, and although Durin’s Day festival was coming up, he still felt as if he was missing something important in his life. He could give two guesses at who they may be.

     Instead of limping down the hallway towards their palace apartments, Kíli took a detour towards the treasury. He’d often liked coming down here to marvel at the order that the accountants had gotten. Instead of massive piles of coins, decorative armor, jewels, and such there were vaults, rooms and rooms of vaults to keep the treasure out of sight and locked and guarded. Thorin had gotten right in his mind about that at least, if nothing else. There were guards that kept the casual purveyor of treasure from glancing inside the open doors. But Kíli wasn’t just a greedy, hoarding prince, nay, he liked coming down here to imagine how the dragon Smaug may have looked to Bilbo. Laying underneath the piles of gold.

     Kíli often wondered what _nadad_ would think of all the order. Erebor had survived the dragon – twice – and had been made ready for the wandering dwarves left in the Wilds, the Blue Mountains, or Ered Luin. And although she was not even full to capacity yet, Erebor was still a jewel amongst the dwarves. Kíli had been proud to fight for her.

     Thinking back on the battle, on the war that lead to Thorin’s constant absence, Kíli thought he was lucky to get away with a slight limp. Erebor was luckier still that she had Thorin as ruler when he’d finally been able to think straight and call for an alliance of Men, Elves and Dwarf once again. And although he had not rectified all of his mistakes, he’d made up for the ones that he could by giving the men and elves their share of the treasure. It was all part and parcel to re-seizing the mountain and to draw upon the Alliance for strength when needed. And was it needed.

     Orcs and Goblins had descended upon the Alliance just as they were signing the contracts, before Dain had even been able to arrive with his men and soldiers (and that Woman). The battle was intense, they’d lost a lot of lives, in the end, but the Woman was able to prove herself battle worthy and a reasonable mate for Thorin (and you can imagine the outrage most of the company had against allowing such a gold hungry, beardless trollop as a good wife to their leader). Some of the company had chosen to leave Erebor after the first winter back to Ered Luin or the Blue Mountains because of her. They had felt betrayed, thinking that Thorin would finally get the stones to find Bilbo and apologize to her. But it hadn’t happened.

     After the battle, in fact almost immediately after and while Thorin was in his sick bed still healing, they’d held a wedding for him and the Woman. Kíli had woken up from a head injury a fortnight later to find he had an aunt. But she could never be an aunt to him, the Woman was demanding, presumptuous, flagrantly flirted with other dwarrows, and had been a down right terrible wife to Thorin. But she enjoyed her status as Queen. Oh, yes she did. But, again, Thorin had the right mind when he’d appointed the Crowned Prince as steward rather than his power hungry wife.

     And Kíli hated it when she’d find him and rail at him.

     “You, brat,” just like now. The grating voice echoed down the halls at Kíli as he tried to limp into an empty room, “I see you _your Highness_ , stop there.” And Kíli listened, barely. “When is my husband coming back? I need more gold to send to my family.”

     She wasn’t ugly, The Woman, she had thick, glossy black hair, a decent tan, and crystal light green eyes. She had a shorter nose than most, kind of resembling Bilbo’s in the way it was more of a button. She had lovely curves, for a dwarrowdam, and had thick but not unpleasant muscles from battle training. But the only thing that made her ugly was her attitude.

     “I’m not sure, My Queen, Thorin is on a scouting mission with-“ Kíli droned on as he would reciting a dry history chapter.

     “You can’t fool me. I know he’s back in this mountain.” The Queen spat at the taller dwarf.

     “How? Can you smell him?” Kíli didn’t even laugh, or smile as he’d said it. He just couldn’t allow himself to laugh without his _nadad_ next to him to stab him in the ribs with an elbow.

     “Mark me, boy, I’ll have you punished for your words towards your queen.” She pointed a swollen finger at Kíli’s nose, all seven of her rings glinting the firelight from the torches along the walls. “My husband won’t put up with you and your _wife_ for long. As soon as I have a son you can bet that you’ll be put in your proper place.”

     Kíli wasn’t impressed with today's’ threats, they were unoriginal and repetitive. She’d said the same words a few days ago when he’d told her that she couldn’t order any more silks for her undergarments. “Consider your words marked. I wouldn’t want to be in trouble with the King.”

     The prince turned on his heel (almost falling from the weight on his injured leg) and made a limp down the hall. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his guard pull up next to him with a wooden cane.

     “Your Highness.” The guard said offering the crutch.

     “Thank you,” Kíli replied gingerly. He hated using the thing but if Tauriel had heard that he wasn’t using it again she’d have a fit. But before he could make it far another figure approached from the other side, slinking from the shadows with his tail tucked between his legs. “You know, if you’d just give her a little ‘quality’ time she might not be as bitchy.”

     “I’ll consider it.” Thorin mumbled. The older dwarf had more grey in his hair and had pulled it back with a leather thong. The king stunk of blood and fresh battle. “The orc’s are getting braver. They’ve crossed the glades on the North West side. But Dain’s raven’s reveal that they’ve received no attacks from the creatures.”

     “Doesn’t surprise me.” Kíli admitted, “The orcs may be coming up from Moria and are trying for a sneak attack. But I know The Queen’s trade routes and Night Watchers protect those high roads well enough to keep us from being caught off guard.” Thorin nodded his head, using Kíli as a counselor.

     And if Thorin was truly honest with himself, he missed the way the _other one_ was insightful. The _other one_ was able to see a situation, analyze and produce the best approach for the situation. There had been times when Thorin was absolutely blown away by how quickly the _other one_ was able to react. And there was that night, when Thorin couldn’t wait for news of _that one_ after his overnight mission which turned to a three day capture and torture, when Thorin had seen the extent of the lad’s training. It was after that Thorin decided that the _other one_ was going to be his heir.

     Even if he wasn’t supposed to be remembering all of these things, he couldn’t help but be proud of what the lad had become, especially to have overcome his illness.

     “They could be from Moria,” Kíli repeated his offer. And the lad was right; the orcs were from that accursed land. But Moria had been asleep for nearly a century, why would a sleeping darkness rise like this? It made no sense to Throin. And it was now, like most every day, that he longed for the _other one’s_ take.

     “They are. I have no assumptions as to why they would travel this far north just to attack a still unstable kingdom.” Thorin muttered rubbing at his re-growing beard. Kíli winced when he remembered that right after Bilbo and _nadad_ had been carried away Thorin had locked himself in his chambers for days before coming out without his braids and beard. He had failed in protecting his people from a traitor and burglar and had failed to protect the integrity of his heir. That had been his excuse. But Kíli couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t because Thorin had instantly felt the loss of Bilbo and _nadad._

     “ _We are young, but we are fighters._ ” Kíli sighed, “ _To the last dwarf._ ”

     Kíli instantly found himself shoved against the wall, tapestry digging into his cheek, Thorin behind him with a warrior’s swiftness and a king’s grace. The cane had been dropped and the arm been twisted behind Kíli’s back. Thorin’s whole body pressed against Kíli, shaking with rage and somehow supporting the young injured dwarf beneath him.

     “DON’T YOU DARE! DON’T YOU DARE SAY THOSE WORDS! HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING?” Thorin shoved Kíli harder into the stone wall, the royal guards wanting to come to the wounded prince’s aid. “You have been forbidden by law to say _his_ name, but _I_ forbid you from speaking of him.” The king growled against Kíli’s cheek, the one that was almost burned down to the bone during the Battle of the Five Armies, the skin twisting and pulling with Kíli’s grimace.

     “I’m not speaking of him. I’m quoting him, you arse,” Kíli fought uselessly against Thorin’s hold – if only he could get to the King’s ribs where they hadn’t healed the right way.

     Thorin paused, and Kíli couldn’t see his uncles face to gauge his emotions – if he’d ever had any to begin with. Then he felt something wet splash against his cheek. Was Thorin-

     “I don’t want to hear any of it, Kíli,” Thorin released him but rubbed at his eyes. The man was crying. “I don’t need to hear any of it. What’s done is done. We must move on.”

     Thorin turned to march down the halls, Dwalin ever behind him, and Kíli couldn’t help but one more stab at Thorin’s guilt.

       “They can come back, you know. Bilbo had done you a FAVOR! AND HE’S ONLY EVER PRAISED THE ROAD YOU WALK ON!” Kíli ended up shouting. He was shaking with anger and adrenaline to the surprise attack, but Thorin had stopped, and made his way back to his new heir. Kili pressed himself against the wall, palms flat on the tapestry trying to keep weight off of his bad leg.

     “I cannot re-write laws on a whim, Kíli.” Thorin’s voice cracked. “Even if I did want them back, want her back, I cannot change what has been done.”

     Thorin’s voice had gone quiet and Kíli hadn’t ever remembered his uncle looking so vulnerable. Was this what was really behind the mask? Was this what was behind all of his running into battle and neglecting his duties as king and husband? Kíli didn’t blame Thorin on that last bit though.

     “You loved her-“ Kili whispered, quietly voicing his thoughts.

     “What I had for Bilbo is none of your business.” Throin bit at Kíli. They stood, chest to chest, staring into another's eyes, neither one backing down. “I loved her, sure, but she betrayed that love the moment she sold off that jewel.”

     “That. Jewel.” Kíli repeated. “You mean the Arkenstone? The King’s Stone?”

     Thorin looked like he’d been spooked, like he’d said too much of something. He pushed at Kíli’s chest and stormed off down the hall. Kíli felt some satisfaction as the King had been found by his Queen and was forced into their bedchambers. That Woman would torture him far better than Kíli was able to. But why had Thorin called the King’s Stone, the most precious stone in the dwarven kingdom, a jewel? _That_ jewel to be precise. All Thorin was able to do in the beginning was rant about how important it was. Then he’d had it locked safely in a vault and had just referenced it to _that jewel_.

     Something was queer about the King and Kíli was going to find out. In fact, Thorin and Thranduil were both behaving strangely. But Kíli had not gotten anywhere with Thranduil and had been forced to give up on his search for answers.

     Suddenly Kíli had seen a shadow pass down the hall a ways. Recognizing it as Nori Kíli picked up his cane and followed the thief turned King’s Spy down another hall. Kíli had always been good at tracking, so following Nori had been no difficult feat, but remaining hidden in the open upper ceilings of the Great Hall was somewhat of a challenge. Kíli ordered his guard to stay at the end of the opening and assured that he would be safe.

     There was a small space of rafters between the buttress’ and shafts of the high vaulted ceilings that hid all manner of Watchers. Kíli knew this from experience because Nori had told him that this was where the Watcher’s (both King’s and Queen’s) hid and surveyed the whole of Erebor. Kíli had found the entrances that the Watcher’s used some few years ago after Thorin’s coronation.

     Rats scurried everywhere with every manner of bug and crawlies; thankfully he was no longer afraid of things that crawl because he’d thought he couldn’t be able to follow Nori. But the black legged, bulbous spider almost did him in when it scurried along a rafter overhead. Those, those he would possibly never be used to again.

     Kíli knew he was getting closer to where Nori was when he’d heard a deep, rumbling almost familiar voice speaking.

     “… over the mountains. Fíli seems well. He may have caught a cold though, his skin was pale when we met.”

     “He’s well, then?” Nori replied.

     “Aye, got himself a host family to take him in. Your Hobbit lass takes care of him and the children. I watched them all day before he’d finally noticed me.”

     “He’s getting lazy.” Nori chuckled.

     “That’s what I thought.” There was a pause in speech, as if both of the Watchers were listening for something. Kíli wanted to duck out of the way but his _nadad_ had always said the most sure way to be discovered when hiding is to duck. When the hidden try to conceal themselves more, that’s when they get pegged. That day’s hide-and-discover was a more enlightening game than Kíli had ever thought would be possible. And _nadad_ was the best at hiding and discovering. But Kíli must have not caught their attention because the other Watcher kept going. “A blond little thing, barely walking. Hadn’t caught a name. But the other one, black hair and blue eyes. She’s a Durin through and through. More so than the other.”

     “And they’re twins?” Nori asked but didn’t get a reply. “I see. So Fíli is well, though? Those Watchers sent to kill him?”

     “Made an example of, I doubt he’d been able to do it his usual way, being so far out of the way from any watcher post. But I’m assuming someone had gotten the message. I’m betting it was that family, the one with the idiot son?”

     “Never liked them in the first place.” Nori sounded like he’d agreed to something. Kíli knew that Watcher’s had a habit of speaking and signing at the same time to confuse those who would eavesdrop, like Kíli was doing, so whatever they were keeping secret would stay that way. Kíli couldn’t risk moving closer though.

     “Do you want me to keep watching them?” The other dwarf offered. But Nori must have been shaking his head.

     “Others will find him. We should keep them protected. I trust Fíli to keep his Promise.” Nori shuffled, Kíli remembered the way he did that when he was unsure of how to say something. “But something troubles me. Thranduil knew about Deathsong before we did. Look into that. It’s not a priority so if it gets tight there….”

     “Drop canvas and sail?” The Other said. “Take care, Goatlegs.” The other man chuckled.

     “Piss off Lightfoot.” The man must have left, but Kíli hadn’t even heard a rustle of clothing or clinking of weapons. “You’ve heard more than you should, princeling.” Nori appeared around the corner of a lump of rock Kíli hid behind. “Perhaps I shan’t tell you where he is. Punish you for your sneaking.”

     Kíli stood as carefully as he could, straightening his near-lame leg as much as possible without falling. “I have a feeling that you hadn’t said everything you could have just then.” Kíli groused at being notice right away. “You Watchers could have changed your story and signed the report out for all I know. But you wouldn’t lie to me about his health.”

     Nori was straight faced, not giving anything away. “No, Kíli, we wouldn’t have. Fí- the exiled was sick looking when he saw him. But his children are safe. He’s safe.”

     “They’re my children too, don’t forget that.” Kíli wanted to yell, but he kept his voice down as he recognized the clang of armored boots through the Great Halls.

     “Sure.” Nori followed Kíli’s gaze but concentrated on a different Dwarrow altogether. Thorin and Dwalin were heading back out. Kíli suddenly felt sorry for the thief. Almost every day Nori’s husband was out protecting the AWOL king. Kíli still didn’t know if either male was a carrier, and they kept it that way for a reason, the prince was sure, but it would be nice to know for curiosities sake. But the sad look in Nori’s eyes spoke volumes of their relationship.

     “I’ll find a way to get them back home, where they belong.” Kíli spoke absentmindedly.

     “I’m not sure that’s the safest route, lad.” Nori sighed, thumbing a knife on his belt. It was Dwalin’s, Kíli would recognize that device anywhere.

     “Who is Deathsong?” Kíli asked, easily distracted as usual. Nori laughed at the lad’s thought process.

     “The most feared Watcher of our age.” Nori began walking, assisting Kíli over the rafters, towards the exit. “He’s the most accomplished watcher I’ve ever trained. He’s killed many, protected more, and is even more silent than this spy.” Nori’s smile crinkled at his eyes.

     “And he’s on _nadad’s_ trail?” Kíli begun to panic. “Is he in danger?”

     “Not from Deathsong, no, he’s one of us. Part of my Guild. He and Lightfoot have worked together many times before. But he’s no threat to your brother. Or the children” Nori quickly added. “In fact, he will make sure to protect them all.”

     “That’s a relief.” Kíli said joining his guard at the bottom of the hidden stairs. “Fíli is too trusting and could easily fall into a trap of some sort. Even though he’s smart, he’s not cleverer than you lot.”

     “You’d be surprised.” Nori spoke cryptically before disappearing. Kíli cursed himself for taking his eyes off the Watcher for any amount of time. But he guessed he had his answers, and he couldn’t even be upset.

     He was a father, twice over, to his brother’s children. He couldn’t have been more proud than in that instant. He didn’t need their names, but just to know that he has surviving children, out there somewhere, with his first and most powerful love was satisfying. But it had in no way overshadowed Alicin and Tauriel. He was proud of his family, even with all of their flaws. Alicin was a strong child, she smiled plenty when he and Tauriel visited, she had a bowman’s grip even if she was underweight for her age. And Thranduil has been taking very good care of her. Almost as if he’d been longing for another child himself. Kíli smiled with that thought. Thranduil had been nothing but a softie this whole time.

     The rest of the evening went well, Tauriel was holding with child successfully so far, and the Healers have been giving her plenty of supplements and ordering plenty of rest. And even if his beautiful wife complained of the lack of movement, she was more concerned with keeping this one. Kíli decided not to tell her about his other children. He was content in letting it settle warmly in his chest until the right time came.

 

\--

 

     Fíli felt miserable. It had been nearly a decade since he’d last suffered through a cold. His lungs ached and his chest felt too constricted. And here he’d been sure to keep with his regular doses of medicine, and he’d still gotten sick. Although, it was a relief to know that he wasn’t pregnant again. It would just be too much too soon. Not only was he training to become a chief of a rather large clan, but he was also trying to keep up with his Watcher training, gathering his much needed herbs for the long winter, raising his son and helping with Nirin, consoling Bilbo when she was feeling lonely, developing a new relationship with Erska, learning to sign from Erskin, and trying to find out where he and Erlen's relationship was going. Rather, how fast everything was happening.

     Fíli had been kept in his old room with the door shut and a winterized window open. By winterized he meant that the window was hidden behind thick boards of wood and insulated during the colder months. During the summer, and autumn as it were now, the days were warm enough to heat the room which Fíli was confined to. He didn’t want to take the chance of getting Ghel ill as well.

     Not only was Fíli suffering through an illness, but his oaf of a lover was worrying himself into a tizzy. Fíli couldn’t remember if he’d already told the others about his childhood illness, but the worried looks he was getting from the other dwarves proved that he had to tell them again. That’s when Erlen really started to panic. Fíli felt something in his chest tickle at the sight of Erlen rushing Fíli to bed, all but carrying him as one would a bride. Fíli had tried laughing then, but the mess in his lungs kept him from laughing too hard at his lover.

     The best thing about laying here that Fíli had found, was that he finally had enough time to consider what he was feeling for Erlen. And even though he felt like he’d already beat that horse to leather, he couldn’t help but attempt to figure out the growing mess called his emotions.

     Sure, the dwarf was large and a good hunter. He had already proved himself able to defend his family; he was patient and kind to Fíli and his family. But there was something that Fíli felt that he was missing. There was just something that the breeder couldn’t get out of his head. It was like a whisper, a trail of smoke needing to be bottled. Fíli felt as if there was something that needed to be done, or rather needed to be said.

     He knew they hadn’t really talked about what he had done as a Watcher and Fíli knew that Erlen deserved that much at least. To be able to get off his chest everything that he’d ever done was something of a relief. But Fíli wasn’t sure that Erlen would be able to deal with that. To have the understanding of everything he’d ever done.

     “Fíli?” Erlen poked his head through the door noting how some of Fíli’s color had returned since being laid up. Three days ago Erlen thought that Fíli was going to die, especially after his lover confessed to having such weak lungs. It made sense now that Fíli was worried about being seen as weak or needing help. Erlen vaguely remembered Fíli talking about how he’d taught himself to get out of bed from being sick. “Do you need more water?”

     Fíli lifted his head from the goose down pillow and shook his head lightly. Most of the headache from yester was nothing but an annoying throb in the back of his head. “Just you.”

     Erlen blushed and ducked his head but entered the room anyways. He didn’t want to be in the room for too long, annoying his lover. “I just, I guess I wanted to apologize.”

     “For what?” Fíli scooted over on the small bed and made room for Erlen to sit. The big dwarf immediately began petting back Fíli’s stray hairs. Aunt Bilbo had given Fíli a single braid off to the side to keep the sickly dwarf from spitting out his hair. Erlen decided that he would be alright with Fíli keeping his braids rather than getting the dreadlocks.

     “For always pesterin’ ye.” Erlen’s mighty shoulders slumped, but he only looked relaxed, as if just the sight of Fíli was enough to soothe him. “I know ye don’ like it.” Erlen mumbled, voice low. “You don’t like when I coddle ye. But I can’t help it. You make me want to keep you safe, to make you happy, and this is the only way I know how. So, I’m sorry, for-“

     “You don’t have to apologize for that, Erlen.” Fíli reached out a clammy hand and lifted it up to Erlen’s prickly cheeks; he had neglected to shave today. “I told you, I’m so used to always taking care of others that I haven’t given myself the opportunity to be taken care of. You’d spoil me if I let you, wouldn’t you?”

     “Of course,” Erlen blushed and nuzzled into Fíli’s hand. He loved the feel of them, loved to feel the rise of the scars on them, the callous’, a sign of a tough life. The other scars on Fíli’s body only lent to the carriers’ image of ‘can’t touch me’. “I’d give you everything you’d be too afraid to ask for.”

     Fíli’s chest clenched painfully, and it wasn’t his illness. It felt like his heart had simultaneously expanded and contracted to nothingness at the same time. It was so confusing, how Fíli was supposed to untangle these knots.

     “ _That’s_ what I’m afraid of.” Fíli smiled and desperately wanted to kiss the man above him. With his eyes, he traced the lines on Erlen’s face, how his nose was stubbier than most dwarves. Fíli loved the way his lips were shaped, he looked like he’d have that smile that would send criminals begging for their mama’s. But that smile turned into the most beautiful and blinding smile imaginable. And when Erlen bit the corner of his lip, _like that_ , all Fíli wanted to do was press the man into the mattress and show him how a cock can drive him insane. “And I don’t want to be afraid.”

     “There’s nothing that I could possibly want to do that should scare you, Fíli.” Erlen wanted to lay down and curl his lover against his chest and keep him from all the hurts in the world. “ _I_ want to protect you. _I_ want to be the one you depend on. _I_ want to be your everything.” Erlen decided to kiss Fíli on the juncture of his neck just then. It always made Fíli whine prettily. “I want to erase his memory. That’s my dark secret, love. I want to keep him from your mind, erase his touch, erase his presence and let only myself remain. I want to destroy you in the sweetest ways. I want to love you, to _fuck_ you, until you beg for mercy or give in.

     “I want to have children with you. I want to see you swell with my child. And I want you to name her. I want so many things for myself, my love, that I sometimes forget to listen to what you want.”

     Fíli was crying, and Erlen didn’t like that but if this was the only way to reach the emotionally distant carrier…

     “I want to forget him. But I can’t. I’ve made a promise that I intend to keep. He’s gone from my life and yes, only you remain, my dearest and sweetest love. I want to give my son a normal life. No watchers, no fighting, no orcs. I want him to only know you as adad. I want him to know that he’s always loved even when I tell him how he came to be. I will not keep that from him, I never could.” Fíli took in a shaky breath. “I want to be there for aunt Bilbo, to be there for Nirin. I want to teach your brother how to defend himself and teach him herbs and what healing I know. I want you mother to never forget who I am but to remember the breeder that I’ve become.

     “I want you to tell me how much you love me. To never give up on me. To always be there to push me when I want to dig in my heels. I need that, sometimes, a little push or a swift kick in the arse. But most importantly, Erlen, I want you. In your entirety, in your simplicity, in your everything that you can be. I want you to love me. I want you to be my best friend. And I want you to marry me, someday.”

       Fíli laughed as he stroked both sides of Erlen’s face. The hollows of his cheeks had never distracted Fíli so much. The man was stressing himself to starvation, it seemed. And Fíli suddenly wanted to rail at him about lacking the sensibilities to keep his self healthy. But he knew that it would be meaningless. Erlen would neglect himself to care for Fíli. And the carrier cried harder realizing that he felt the exact same way.

     “I have something… that I want to tell you.” Fíli began, he feared for this, for coming clean. He had been lying to Erlen for so long that he thought that if he’d tell the truth now, that everything would unravel.

     “What is it, love?” Erlen’s eyes were hypnotizing. And Fíli really didn’t want to tell Erlen.

     “I-, that I-“ Fíli paused and wanted to hide. “I wasn’t raped.”


	16. Reprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili confesses all. Thorin rides to his wife's side, if only in want to strangle her. But when she's obviously carrying his child, what is he to do? Erlen asks a very important question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Subtle title, yes? Rewritten for your pleasure and less confusion. 
> 
> I seriously wondered about releasing this information this early... but a certain someone made me realize y'all deserve it. Besides, much more to come! ;)

     Erlen sat back, frozen on the spot. What Fíli was saying was impossible. He had to be lying, why would he lie about something like this? Why would he lie about being raped? Looking back now on how Bilbo had related their story, Fíli hadn’t actually said a word against it. But he also didn’t correct Bilbo. What Fíli had done, by not correcting or telling the truth, was almost unforgivable. Almost.

       “What do you mean by this?” Erlen tried to keep his anger under control, his hurt at being lied to. “Why are you saying this?”

     “I mean that I wasn’t raped. Bilbo had only seen part of what had happened. She wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place.” Fíli took a shaky breath, whether from nerves or his ailment Erlen didn’t know. But Fíli gathered himself, steeling against whatever reactions Erlen may have to his confessions. “When we were captured, they separated all of us into individual cells.”

       _Fíli resisted throwing one of his hidden daggers at the guard just so he could stop pushing him. He hated this part, being captured and not being able to free himself immediately. Nori had kept giving him looks through their march through the woods, perhaps wondering when Fíli would tire of playing inept and free himself. But that was in the instances when Fíli could afford to go solo during a job. He had the Company to worry about this time._

     “Then, one by one, Thranduil interrogated us - beginning with my uncle. When it became my turn, I had already a plan, that would simultaneously free us, and save Bilbo who hadn’t been captured.”

     _The elven guards pushed Fíli towards the tree root throne where the silvery King waited with pursed lips. It seemed that at least one of the more seasoned veterans had been through here before Fíli, Thranduil’s mouth was pursed and his face pinched just slightly in barely concealed anger. Fíli looked around the high ceilinged room to find the exits out of habit. His mind was calculating just how much effort it would cost him to get past the guards, find a key to the prisons and which route was the best possible one to escape. It was difficult enough thinking of that when Fíli realized that Bilbo wasn’t with the rest of them down below. This all didn’t include the fact that he had no idea where some of the company was placed. Fíli was just in the middle of thinking of his escape when he was pushed one last time with enough force that almost brought him to his knees._

 _“Tell me,_ dwarf _, how do you plan to escape me?” Thranduil had seen into Fíli’s calculations. Fíli winced at being read so clearly by this being. It was his only chance, now._

_“King Thranduil,” Fíli kept his emotions in check, the dwarf in him burning at playing pleasantries with and elf, especially one that couldn’t, in the past, afford to assist Thorin and their people just after a grave tragedy. The actions of this king will be engraved in his heart. “I believe that I have a solution that would please all parties.” Fíli kept his mask up._

_“And what can a banished dwarf offer a King?” Thranduil’s face hadn’t twitched to show his displeasure, but Fíli could feel it in his words. But the simmering look that he received from the King conflicted with what he was saying. That is, if Fíli was reading into it correctly. He was a master at reading bodies._

_“An offer, and contract, that will bring you your promised riches denied you in my grandfathers’ time and a payment for your assistance in the upcoming alliance.” It was tricky, playing arrogant and cocksure, Fíli wasn’t sure Thranduil would appreciate his attitude considering the other’s that had come through._

_Thranduil sat, motionless still, showing no emotion behind his own cool mask. Fíli imagined the man unpleasant even when relaxed. When Thranduil shifted, ever so slightly, Fíli couldn’t help but realize that the elf seemed to shimmer like starlight. The sun dripping down through the trees above casting a warm glow on the cold looking robes._

_“I do not think you have the authority to make such meaningless promises. And promises, dwarf, are all you have.” Thranduil stood up, hair flowing gracefully around him, “You won’t have a crown if I don’t release you.”_

_“I’m sure you’ll find that Thorin doesn’t need to sit on the throne for me to have a crown.” Fíli spoke, slightly amused at Thranduils obvious want at the treasure. “I can be a steward, until his release.”_

_“You act as if you can escape my kingdom.”_

_“I don’t act.” Fili said with all the confidence that he knew that he could escape here. They can take his numerous blades and wires hidden on his body, but nobody ever checks his hair for picks._

_Thranduil gave Fíli a cold stare as he slowly descended the throne. Each step closer made Fíli shake inside… of fear? Fíli wasn’t sure, he’d been accomplished at hiding his emotions at the drop of a hat that he wasn’t sure what he was feeling. But figuring out his emotions wouldn’t help him out of this situation._

_“What,” Thranduil paused for undue affect, “do you hope to get in return?” Thranduil drug a finger across a polished branch that acted as a balustrade._

_“A child.”Fíli didn’t even hesitate. The King froze stock still, and measured up the young dwarf before him. “I need to bear a child. It wouldn’t matter which sex, I do not look for an heir.”_

_“You know our people prize children over_ all _living things.” Thranduil took a threatening step closer to Fíli, to which the dwarf didn’t even flinch. “I assume you wish one of my people to take your offer.”_

_“I failed my previous attempt at conceiving. And now,” Fíli splayed his shackled hands, “consider me desperate. But I believe that we can reach some sort of agreement, after the child is born.”_

_Thranduil paced, quite out of character that the guards watched him closely, waiting for an order. “And why would you need a child?”_

_“Because my King’s mistress is pregnant.”_

“Mistress?” Erlen asked, pausing the story. He had to admit, this was just as confusing as Fíli’s minefield of emotions. “What do you mean by that?”

     Fíli tried to inhale slowly, so as not to induce a fit. His lungs shook with want to cough but he controlled his breathing again, taking hitching breaths to force the lungs to open correctly without seizing.

     “The King signed a contract, in order to receive assistance from one of our allies. The King had to marry one of the Lord’s nieces. Desperate himself, he signed, left on his journey, and came to a certain Hobbit hole.” Fíli spoke slowly, unsure if he should go this far. But Erlen deserved to know it all.

     _“Thorin’s?” Thranduil bit out the dwarven King’s name with an almost snarl. “And why should I concern myself in the matters of Dwarves?”_

_And this was where Fíli had to deliver it correctly. The young heir was accomplished in many things, but his power of speech was one of his favorites to pull while working. At home, though, he preferred to allow his beloved to do the talking, enjoying the dwarves excitability. “Because, My King, it won’t simply be a dragon that Throin may release. It would be a civil war between Lord and King that may spill into your own Kingdom. Rotten and infested as it is, you still care for it. You send men out to eradicate beasts and creatures from your Greenwood in hopes to restore its’ previous luster. I’ve heard of the stories of Greenwood, from my own people, and how it was admittedly magnificent in its bounty. With this contract, I can remove the spark that would ignite warfare, but in order not to throw suspicion in the wind, I must too disappear.”_

_Thranduil looked perplexed; Fíli took a breath before clearing his confusion._

_“You know that dwarven royals are not allowed to copulate.” A nod from the King. “My brother and I are intimate, in ways that would mean his banishment and my disinheritance. With the King taking a wife at the end of our journey, they wouldn’t need me. And my brother would be banished to the outer reaches of dwarven lands. But, if it seems to the King, Thorin, that I conceived out of full knowledge of my actions I would be banished. Thorin’s mistress is a dear friend, and if the future Queen hears of his infidelity she would have my friend’s head and their illegitimate child._

_“To protect her, and keep her secret, I will orchestrate her own banishment along with my own, offering her protection under the guise of empathy.” Fíli was sure he could pull that off, but making everyone believe that Bilbo would betray the one she loves and convincing others that Fíli conceived without his brother’s awareness would be more complicated than he was willing to admit to Thranduil. “All I ask, is for one elf that can ensure my pregnancy, and he has mine and my friend’s share of the gold as compensation. Children are precious to our kind as well, but an agreement can be made if he chooses to want the babe.”_

_“And how can you be sure that Thorin will hold_ your _promise. You are scheming behind his back and he will not thank you for it, I’m sure.” Thranduil had moved closer to Fíli, looking like he wanted to invade the dwarfs space entirely._

_“How do you think I knew she was pregnant?”_

     Fíli let the words sink in, around him and in Erlen. It was a heavy secret to keep, especially since Bilbo still didn’t know everything either. It was simpler, at first, to allow her to believe that he was raped. He was still despondent and broken hearted to not care. But when Eruil had come, everything changed. He found that he wanted to keep his son to himself, origins be damned. He loves his son, and he wouldn’t dare think of letting him go, even if Thranduil wanted him.

     The selfish desire to keep his child to himself was one of the reasons he hadn’t gone to Thranduil for protection from Erebor. The other reason was because, if he remained too close to Erebor, that the others would guess at his reasons and it would be too much of a temptation to his brother. Escaping to the Shire, and then forward unto lands unknown to them both, provided safety and a certain level of anonymity to the surrounding population. Fíli just hadn’t accounted that there would be Night Watch who would take his banishment as a sign of traitorous actions against the crown, or that there were other Watchers outside of his guild still loyal to the crown.

     So many things hadn’t gone to plan, including finding and falling in love with Erlen. Alone and sick here in this room Fíli had been able to sift through the unfamiliar emotions and find that he couldn’t walk this world without Erlen. And that the thought of losing him would devastate his precariously built foundation of normalcy here in Forodwaith. But if there was one thing that Fíli was happy for, it was his son.

     “So when you said that you had promised to protect your family…” Erlen tried remembering when the other watchers had appeared and threatened the whole house, “you promised to take care of Bilbo and Nirin, because they were your uncle’s family, your uncle who _you_ hadn’t abandoned despite his casting you aside.”

     “Yes.”

     “But, if Bilbo is that hobbit you spoke of, then Nirin’s father is the King,” Erlen waited for the slow fearful nod from Fíli. “That makes you a prince.”

     “Yes, the Queen has the right to contest Nirin’s heritage, but she’s the spitting image of my uncle. There would be no way she could overlook that. Both Nirin and Bilbo would die just to protect the integrity of the crown. As a watcher I could protect them, I wanted to, they are family. But no one would believe that I left the possibility of the crown for a friend, nor would they believe I willingly left my brother behind.” Fíli took a rattling breath. “What Bilbo saw, I don’t know, but she had only seen part of it, I was given an elixir to ensure my pregnancy, but I didn’t believe that Thranduil would offer himself. He promised me many things if I had returned to him, but for the preservation of my family, I couldn’t go to him even if I wanted his company.

     “I don’t love him. And I don’t believe now that I’ve ever loved my brother the way he did me. But I know what I feel for you is real, if frightening.”

     Erlen nodded, for lack of anything else to do. Fíli had just revealed a lot in the past few hours. Dinner would be cold and cleared off by now, and Erlen couldn’t even think about leaving Fíli in this room by himself. Erlen could now understand why Fíli had been so secretive before, why he’d been so touchy and protective. It had been the threat of death of the children and Bilbo. Everything that Fíli had ever done since leaving Erebor, had been to protect.

     “Does the King know about your plan?” Erlen asked. Fíli bowed his head, partly in sorrow.

     “He didn’t like it. We had tried to plan Bilbo’s protection before I had even tried to get pregnant. After Bilbo freed us from the elves – before Thranduil had been able to strike an official agreement with my uncle – I told him what I had done. Of course he was angry, but he knew that it had to happen.” Fíli’s eyes began watering, the memory of the hurt and pain in his uncle’s eyes as the realization that there was no turning back just about ruining him.

     “Does Bilbo know?”

     “She doesn’t need to know. I don’t know what she would do after so long of keeping this from her.” Fíli answered honestly. It felt so much better, getting this all off his chest. But there was still the fact that so many other persons didn’t know the truth. And the pain and burden were back before Fíli could relish its release. “She may very well kill me.” Fíli smirked, not knowing if it was actually true.

     Erlen let loose a surprised chuckle. After Fíli had revealed so much to him, he wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Surprise, for sure, sadness at their situation and anger at it being held from he and Bilbo… especially the children. Then, something made Erlen uncomfortable and Fíli could see it on his lover.

     “Eruil will know, of his heritage at least if not the way he was conceived. I won’t hide that from him. And I’m not sure if Nirin will ever get a chance to know her father. Bilbo is so hurt over… everything.”

     Instead of answering or commenting again, the two sat in silence, both relieved and anxious over the conversation. Erlen sat at the edge of the bed, where he eventually reached for Fíli’s outstretched hand, and interlaced their fingers together. He hadn’t need to ask, it was all but spoken anyways, that Bilbo wasn’t to know about what had happened years ago. Erlen hated keeping secrets, he hated lying even more. He decided, though, that unless it comes up again, he would remain silent, just like Fíli had. It still gnawed at him, not being able to clear the air with the _whole_ family, but keeping Fíli protected for now was a bigger issue than telling secrets.

     Erlen removed his boots and crawled up the bed to allow Fíli to cuddle into him and promptly fall asleep. He was still conflicted about how he should be feeling about Fíli’s self-sacrifice. It was both out of his control and in the past that he could easily let it go, but Fíli’s honor was pinned to revealing the truth to do anything about it now. And besides, if Fíli had found some other way, a way Eruil wouldn’t have needed to be born, Erlen knew that he’d never have met his beautiful dwarf.

     A kiss was placed on the top of Fíli’s head, where a prince’s crown would have sat, and held on to his lover tighter as he closed his own eyes and fell asleep.

 

\--

 

“She’s driving me insane with all her nonsense.” The King spoke from in front of the fire. It had been weeks since he’d last sat on his throne instead of sitting amongst his soldiers. Most of his subjects assumed he was more comfortable here in the Wilderlands than sitting on his throne. And most would be right. He’d spent so much time working alongside his brethren than leading them as a King that this was more familiar to him. The fire, the cold, the hard ground, the Wild was where his wife wouldn’t follow, her goose down bed and pillows with silk sheets and furs were in her bedchambers where she swelled with child. “Every day she wanted something different to eat. She demanded quail eggs, three dozen of them!”

     Around the fire his soldiers, his brothers, laughed at their King’s misfortunes. “And what did she say?” a gold haired dwarf asked, his beard white with age.

     “I told her to piss off. She wasn’t getting those eggs. Not when we barely have the man power to scavenge the realm for food.” Thorin became more somber, not that he was particularly eloquent at any given time. But everyone knew that when Dwalin brought the ale Thorin’s tongue loosened and his cheeks blushed.

     There was more teasing around the King, his wife caused many problems within the kingdom, demanding this or ordering that and always in the head jewelers hair for accounts. She was the previous head of a Watcher guild back in the Iron Hills and had brought her own men as her royal guards. Thorin didn’t trust them because Nori didn’t trust them. And if Nori didn’t trust you… you got shit for compliance and sympathy from the King. The problem with her, the queen, wasn’t that she was a bully who loves to throw her weight around; it also wasn’t the fact that she was part of a Night Watch guild. No, the problem with the queen, was that she was someone who Thorin didn’t love.

     “Your Majesty, a letter from _her._ ” Thorin would have laughed at the messenger if he’d had the spirit for it. But he reached for the cream leather binder that kept a weather proofed letter or missive. He unrolled the dyed leather, noting how his dirtied hand stained the pure and buttery soft fabric. He remembered another smoothness that quivered under his touch and flushed with such a beautiful rosy color and was as hot as any furnace. But he quickly dispelled his thoughts as he read the tight, controlled runes demanding his presence.

     “That _BITCH_!” Thorin threw down the letter, not caring who peered at its contents. He turned from the fire and mounted a nearby pony, not caring that it didn’t have a saddle and rode into the darkness Dwalin hot on his heals to mount his own pony.

     A soldier that was sitting next to Thorin got up from his seat, metal armor clanking and read the runes. The ink was as black as the message. “She’s don’ lost her mind.” The thick accent quivered in horror. “She’s trying to abort the child.”

     The whole camp was in an uproar. On any other day Thorin would have been impressed with how quickly the camp was packed and the soldiers moving. The small army that Thorin had taken with him to camp on Thranduil’s gracious front porch was out of the forests in record time following their king.

     “Isn’t it bad enough he’s lost his nephew? Now the _she-bitch_ wants to get rid of his unborn child?” One soldier had said to another. The second dwarrow had a blind raven perched on his shoulder, rocking back and forth to find balance. “One o’ The Company let slip that the King had a lover on the journey.”

     The second dwarrow raised his eyebrows, hair tangling in his helmet. “Oh?” The dwarrow said, not surprised. He looked toward the cawing bird questionably. He didn’t encourage more talk from his companion; he didn’t know whose raven this was, or who it belonged to. For all he knew, it could have been the queen’s.

 

\--

 

     Thorin rode quickly in the night, dodging trees and brush with Dwalin trailing some distance behind him. That woman had finally lost her mind, either that or she has sunk to new depths of depravity. Either way, Thorin was not going to idly sit by and allow his future child to be aborted because of her lunacy. The probability of loss weighed heavy on his mind as he rode hard, his thoughts, however, kept circling to the only One he’d ever loved.

     Bilbo Baggins.

     His heart hammered in regret at her loss. He remembered her golden hair, soft and silken in the sunlight, reflecting as if it were made of spun gold itself. Her deep and expressive eyes, the way they widened just before realizing that he wanted to kiss her – but couldn’t in front of the others. Her soft and supple skin, begging to be kissed and worshipped in the afternoon sunlight to warm to demanding heats. Thorin remembered the way her mouth formed the words ‘I love you’ for the first time and how he felt like flying at her confession.

     Thorin had been wrapped around her thin and dexterous fingers since the moment he’d laid eyes on her. Their meeting hadn’t been one for the books, he’d treated her poorly calling her a seamstress rather than the capable woman she is. Carrier or no, she was beautiful, strong, and bull-headed and he’d have given her all the luxuries in this world. But when she had become pregnant, a morning retching he was familiar with, his heart turned to stone and his body grew cold. He had doomed her future with love.

     Tears stung past his eyes and down his cheeks at the sharp pain in his chest. If only he had been more in control, more able to keep himself from coming inside of her those nights. Where every night he’d promised himself he wouldn’t allow those types of distractions she would come by, the firelight glinting off of her brass buttons and teasing him to fondle them as he would beads in a dwarrowdam’s hair. And when she would giggle, more embarrassed by his forwardness, he would abscond her into the woods away from prying eyes and firelight to take her in the moon’s rays. Her creamy skin glowed with ethereal beauty he wouldn’t have otherwise found attractive on any creature. Her eyes dilated in her pleasure, her hair catching twigs and grass and moss with her tossing, and she would complain of back pains in the day from ‘riding’. Oh how he missed her gentleness that soothed Thorin’s very soul.

     Bilbo Baggins’ capability as an equal partner in their relationship was currently unrivaled. Even in her short days in the mountain, through his ‘mind sickness’, Bilbo had shown that she was very capable of running a kingdom. She had been making sure that their chambers were clean, the halls were in order, that there was enough food for them and all was done with just a suggestion. Thorin had often wondered what the Company wouldn’t have done had she given an order as Queen.

     But such thoughts were for the past. Bilbo could never be queen, she will never return and Thorin was cursed for his greed and pride with a wife who threatened the life of a child to get him to return home. That dwarrowdam was crafty in ways that most weren’t.

     Except for perhaps Fíli.

     Throin arrived at Erebor’s gates just before dawn, pony quivering with the effort to run across the long lands, and directed the servants to bring him to his _wife_ immediately. Dwarrows shuffled to fulfill his orders. Distantly, Thorin was aware of Dwalin arriving and being given a whispered message by one of Nori’s men. Dwalin nodded but followed Thorin down the echoing halls anyways.

     The Queen’s private chambers were something else, instead of her want for pretty metal’s and jewel’s to brighten her room, she had wild flowers growing in pots, strange plants covered almost every surface, her room was damp and heavy to breathe. She had turned her chambers into a mockery of Bilbo’s garden. But Thorin was sure that she’d done it unintentionally. Case in fact, she was clipping small leaves off of a stalk when he’d entered, collecting the leaved in a mug of hot water.

     “Good morning, dear husband.” The Queen, dressed in silvery whites, burgundy reds, and pale gold thread, spoke over her swirling cup of tea. Thorin realized that it was wild mint she was clipping, the smell different, somewhat, than domesticated mint (according to Bilbo). “What brings you here in the wee hours of the day?”

     “Is what you wrote true?” Thorin cut to the chase. He was tired of her games and he was tired of her. “You are willing to get rid of my child?”

     “Our child, Thorin.” She sipped daintily at her earthenware cup. Thorin was surprised it wasn’t a silver goblet encrusted with turquoise and ruby’s. “I’m carrying it, you only provided the seed.”

     Thorin growled throwing his hands on his hips, jaw clenching painfully. He paced the room a bit, Dwalin’s eyes following him every step, ghostly eyes measured his movements as well, though he couldn’t see them – Fíli had taught him to do that. “My heir, my child. Do not pretend that you care for the little one.”

       “But you do and that becomes of great interest to me.” She put her cup down, rough hands from digging too much in the dirt (Bilbo’s were like that, roughened around the nails, hardened, but oh so gentle and impossibly soft), spots of ink permanent on her fingertips. Thorin followed that familiar color, distracting himself from looking into her eyes. She tossed her mousy brown hair back, beads tinkling in the hushed echo of her room. “You want this child, you pay attention to me.”

     “I could care less for you and your wants. But by Aule’s wrath you will not bother that child in there!” Thorin ended up screaming, a servant suddenly appeared behind him carrying hot water for his wife’s feet nonplussed. It wasn’t the first time Thorin wondered why the servants weren’t afraid of his bellowing whenever he was home. What his wife got into while he was gone he was never told, and he never asked. He only trusted that Balin would keep the restrictions of her rule tight.

     The Queen reached for a clay pot and uncovered it, when she began pouring the dry powder into the hot water it let out such a putrefied smell that Dwalin actually took a step back and gagged. Thorin held his ground against it taking it for what it was, a mind game.

     “Dried worm salt,” The Queen provided airily, “it’s good for the skin. Luxurious where other baths and muds aren’t. Interesting, isn’t it? Such a horrid smell produces such wonderful skin.” The dunked her dwarven stubbed feet into the cloudy bath, “But you woulnd’t know that, dear husband.”

     “Nakash, do not play games with me. What is your reason for threatening me with such a message?” Thorin swiped through the air as if to get the stench away from him. The servant moved around the room, ignoring their conversation.

     The Queen, Nakash, took her time replying to the King, her husband. “I want you to perform your husbandly rights. I want to have a child worthy of this kingdom, not this child that will be born of your drunkenness.”

     “It was you who entered my locked chambers and climbed on top of _me._ ” Thorin gritted out, fear prickling at his temple.

     “You didn’t mind it when you emptied yourself into me.” Nakash peered over her swollen belly and into the tub of murky water. “Several times that night if memory serves.”

     Thorin wanted to throw something at all of her blasted plants. But the harming of those plants, Nakash’s or not, would make him think he was harming his hobbit’s garden. It was a silly notion but he kept hold of that thought greedily as he had nothing else to remind him of his lover. Except, _her_ eyes.

     Nakash’s green eyes were the exact shade and color of Bilbo’s, it was as if the powers beyond this world were shaming him for his lack of patience and control those many years ago. And now, this _bitch_ was pregnant with his second child. He hoped it was a girl, or a male carrier, that way he could marry them out and keep the Iron Hills blood out of the throne. Oh he would love this child dearly if they were nothing like their mother.

     “That is beside the point-“

     “That is the point, my dearest. I am your wife and I deserve your loyalty, this is our kingdom that deserves a proper heir. Not your sister’s son and his half-blood brood.” Nakash stared at Thorin as if he were simple.

     “I would take a half-elf on that throne before I allow an Iron Hills dwarrow to take over this kingdom.” Thorin spoke through gritted teeth.

     “If I have a boy,” Nakash picked up her mug, “it won’t be your choice.”

 

\--

 

     It was a whole week that Fíli had been sick and he was still weak. He’d tried to help out around the old blacksmith’s but the only things left to do were heavy labor, walking the distance to the little hut was taxing enough on Fíli’s body. He sat, sweaty and coughing on a pallet of hay where several of the dwarrows worked around him, giving their future chief wide birth.

     “Erlen should be back soon, Fíli,” one of the laborers said to the blond carrier. “He can take you home afterwards.” The ginger-haired dwarrow spoke over his shoulder hauling a large beam of wood.

     Fíli took his time looking around the building that was smaller in floor space than the last smithy he’d been working for. It was planned out well, making up for the lack of space, but the kiln itself was a wonderment. The floo just needed a good scraping and she was good to go, all the moving parts were well enough to complete a couple of commissions before he could buy new parts. What was most surprising was that the tools were in prime condition. Fíli was told that dwarves would come by and borrow the tools and replace them when they were done. They were well oiled and well taken care of. Fíli was impressed.

     It took about a few more hours, of which Fíli was able to catch a nap in the shade outside of the hut, when Erlen finally showed up. Fíli’s growing beard tickled his nose and his flyaway hair tangled uselessly around him when Erlen brushed it all off of his face. Fíli groaned happily out of his sleep, knowing instantly that it was his lover by the width of his hands. Erlen chuckled lowly, just for Fíli.

     “You definitely are like a kitten. All you needed to be doing was sunning and I’d give you a different name.” Erlen was squatting just before Fíli, a soft look in his golden gaze.

     Fíli reached up and pulled Erlen’s face closer to him and gave him a long deep kiss. “Hmm, and what type of name would you give me if I grew a tail?” Fíli pulled his lover down for a more chaste kiss to where Erlen fell to his knees and gave in to the smaller dwarf.

     “What?” Erlen asked, obviously confused, his lip was caught in between Fíli’s teeth in a tingling tease.

     “Tail. Kitten. What name would you give me?” Fíli released the lip, plump now from his teasing, and when he pulled back a swell of emotions burned in his chest.

     “Barzhul.” Erlen leaned in of his own volition and practically tackled Fíli to the ground letting the minx below him know of his desire despite the dwarrows working just feet away.

     Fíli chuckled, it was a name he wasn’t familiar with, perhaps a Northern dialect. “Hmm, and what would you do if your Barzhul was naughty?” The teasing was familiar but the rush of heat and need was new. He suddenly wanted to be taken by the larger dwarf. To be dominated and made to scream his lover’s name as a he came. Fíli shuddered beneath Erlen and the red-head growled.

     “I would fuck the mischief out of you.” Erlen thrust down. Fíli’s momentary panic at such lewd behavior out in the open for all to see was quashed when he felt just how heavy and needy Erlen was.

     “We won’t make it home.” Fíli began pawing at Erlen’s shirt collar to get at his sensitive neck. “Take me to the woods.”

     Erlen didn’t have to be told twice as he picked up Fíli and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and told the other’s they were heading home. Catcalls and whistles followed their hasty retreat.

       Once within the tree line (which separates the rest of the village from the hostel Fíli and the other’s had spent a winter in) Erlen found a tree and pinned Fíli against it instantly rubbing against him. The blond groaned out his pleasure at being handled and from the friction. He pulled at the draw strings in Erlen’s shirt and yanked them down tearing at the seams around his large shoulders. Fíli shivered uncontrollably at his lover’s bulk. He clawed his fingers into the taut muscles as Erlen all but ripped Fíli’s pants down to his ankles.

       Fíli could feel his wetness leaking down his legs and suddenly felt full as Erlen dug his fingers inside his wet hole. Fíli threw his head back and let loose a long groan, skull bouncing off of bark. It had felt like forever since he’d last had his lover thrusting inside of him. The two fingers dug almost painfully against his stretching hole and pumped inside of him dragging out more juice from between Fíli’s legs. The blonde’s knees almost buckled at the brutality of those fingers digging inside of him, stretching him and preparing him for something bigger

     A fingertip brushed against that spot inside of Fíli that made him scream and see stars. The forest echoed with Fíli’s voice as Erlen took his other hand and pinched and pulled gently at Fíli’s nipples underneath his shirts, where his belt went, he didn’t know. Erlen bent down to bite and lick and suck at the juncture between neck and shoulder, just where it drove Fíli the most crazy (apart from when Erlen gripped his hips when he pounded into him).

     Fíli’s cock strained itself upwards towards his belly, balls tightening with impending release. Erlen didn’t relent as he added more fingers and pumped and curled his fingers deep inside of Fíli. This was the best surprise sex they’d had yet, and Fíli was confident they could try to outdo this one. For now, Fíli lost himself to the wicked sensations his lover gave him. All too soon his balls grew tight and a quivering deep inside of him pushed more juice out of him as he came. But Erlen wasted no time in removing his thick fingers from between the spasm of muscles and thrust his hard cock inside of his carrier.

     He was barely coming down from orgasm when he was lifted off the forest floor and pressed against the tree when Erlen entered him completely with one quick thrust. Fíli’s nipples tingled with the passion and he let out another wanton moan that spurred Erlen’s hips on. Fíli was never so happy that Erlen left his shirt on so that he wouldn’t get scraped up from the tree behind him, but it did impede on that mouth of Erlen’s to attack his chest and suckled his neck. But as Erlen pounded into him fervently, Fíli couldn’t care less.

     Fíli could feel Erlen filling him, every ridge and vein burning its way, searching for that channel that produced so much fluid. Fíli was so wet he could feel himself dripping as Erlen fucked him against the tree. It was altogether brutal and gentle at the same time. The same type of paradox that Erlen himself was. Fíli widened his legs and let Erlen sink into him just so, finally finding that second place inside of him. The smaller channel made both men shout and quiver at the sudden feeling. Fíli gripped onto Erlen tighter with arms and legs, ankles locking behind Erlen’s back as Fíli rode his lover. Erlen had his hands splayed around Fíli’s arse, gripping them as if they were the only anchor keeping him in this world.

     Hips stuttered back into action as Fíli loosened up a little more, accommodating for his lover’s girth. The new pleasure drove Fíli into madness as he sputtered out nonsensical words and syllables for the afternoon air to carry away. Erlen attacked Fíli’s neck higher up, towards the jaw, and sucked bruises onto the smaller dwarf, all the while thrusting shallow, quick motions, hips bucking into the tight, wet heat that was a breeder, all that that was Fíli. The carrier could feel his orgasm about ready to tip once again, this time it would knock him out completely; already the darkness crept in as he panted against the rope-like hair. Fíli could feel the wet, hot panting of his lover against his neck before teeth attacked him again; he was going to look like he got in a fight with a leech if Erlen kept this up. But the wild bucking of hips distracted Fíli once again.

     A hot, rough hand found its way to wrap around Fíli’s member and stroked the crown with fingertips then slid down his shaft with an iron-like grip. Fíli began bucking to search for that feeling again and changed the angle enough that both males gasped and groaned against another. Erlen’s free hand gripped tightly around Fíli’s hip and brought the breeder down on his cock again.

     “Almost-“ Erlen grunted out, and Fíli almost missed it in the buzzing of his head. Fíli could hear his grunting and moans grow louder the closer he got to release. Again, his muscles began quivering, releasing another round of liquid as he poured from inside and from his cock. It was such a double edged pleasure that he was always passing out right after sex. Fíli’s eyes were just about ready to close when he forced himself to look up to Erlen. The Northerner’s eyes almost black from the blown out pupils. Lips swollen from his sucking, cheeks flushed, Erlen was beautiful.

       Erlen kept thrusting inside of Fíli, trying to find his release deep inside of his lover, his breeder. “I love you.”

       Fíli reached up and pulled Erlen’s mouth down onto his and kissed with all the energy he could muster. Erlen’s cock twitched inside of him, drawing out a moan from the friction, and soon Erlen curled in on himself, forehead pressed against Fíli’s diaphragm, and shouted his release. Erlen’s cum was so deep inside of Fíli, the breeder didn’t think that he would see a drop of it for a week.

     “I love,” Fíli’s vision turning black, a rhythmic throbbing in his arse and where new bruises were appearing that he’d almost gotten distracted. The blond reached a weak and shaking had up and touched the short beard of his perfect, beautiful, and wondrous lover. “You, Erlen, I love you.”

     Erlen giggled against Fíli’s chest, sinking into the earth to catch their breaths.

     “What triggered this?” Fíli slurred, petting his lover’s hair as they cuddled, Erlen still inside of him spent and growing limp.

     “You.” Erlen kissed from chest up to Fíli’s neck, paying homage to ever new bruise. “You looked so comfortable, and then, I’m not sure, you got this needy look in your eyes.” Erlen finally reached Fíli’s lips and drank him in. Both lovers were taxed of air by the time they were done, beard burns on their lips, cheeks and Fíli could feel it on his neck and shoulders. Fíli’s eyes grew heavier.

     “I did need you.” Fíli hummed out, voice light with early stages of sleep. His hearing grew fuzzier the deeper he was slipping. Erlen nuzzled Fíli’s cheek just before he passed out completely.

     It was several hours later, after the boys made it home just in time for dinner, cuddled with Eruil who had been covered head to toe in mud along with Nirin, and stumbled to bed, when Fíli woke Erlen up from mumbling against his chest. The red-head slowly came out of sleep, comfortable with half of Fíli on top of him, hand twirling a lock of hair between his fingers, when he looked down to his beautiful lover.

     “I want hair like yours.” Fíli whispered in the near dark again. The sun was still taking it’s time across the horizon in the early harvest that thick bands of red sunlight was painted across the pale wood of their room.

     “With this light, you’re almost there.” Erlen mumbled against Fíli’s head and pulled him tighter against his chest. Fíli threw a leg over one of Erlen’s thighs and clung like a slug.

     “That’s not what I mean,” Fíli playfully swatted at Erlens chest. “I want the ropes. I don’t want braids anymore. I won’t need them.”

     Fíli sounded so sad when he’d said that that Erlen almost choked up with the emotion. “Wouldn’t you eventually be able to go back home? With everything that has happened, perhaps there’s a way?”

     “Not unless the Queen dies. But even then, we’d be blamed for plotting, murder, extortion and mongering. Not to mention we’d start a war with Iron Hills and Erebor.” Fíli faded out sounding as if he were falling asleep. When he began again, he startled Erlen back awake himself, “Besides, why would I want to be there, in danger, when I’ve got a comfortable bed underneath me here?”

     “Is that all you’re here for? The bed?” Erlen poked, smiling again.

     “Of course, the beds up here are much more comfortable and warm than they are in the south. Our down isn’t as fluffy.” Fíli giggled when Erlen decided to tickle him. It was ridiculous how childish they had become recently. Laughing and giggling with each other as they walked, talked, ate, and especially after sex when they were really relaxed. “Bed partner’s aside, I can’t imagine leaving this place.”

     “What about aunt Bilbo?” Erlen asked. Fíli went rigid in Erlen’s embrace and he regretted ever asking.

     “I-don’t know. She may never find anyone else besides my uncle.” Fíli pulled Erlen closer to him to chase away the ghostly chills. “I can’t imagine, now, what she’s going through being so far away from her One.” Fíli sat up; blanket’s dripping from his body. Erlen stirred with interest, eyes going immediately to Fíli’s stomach. “I would die without you.”

     Erlen looked back up to Fíli’s eyes, sky on gold, and his heart fluttered. Such an honest and emotional response made Erlen ache. It was the first time Erlen had felt that Fíli was so honest the first time saying something. The dwarrow suddenly decided that he couldn’t wait for many more firsts with Fíli.

     “Will you marry me?” Erlen blurted out before he could stop himself.


	17. Author's Temp Note

So, as it's been brought to my attention, the time jumps are getting out of hand. The plot is crazy thick with hardly any monitoring, so, edited chapter is just one page back.

 

GO BACK AND READ CHAPTER 16! This is just to let y'all know that I've rewritten the last chapter almost entirely and you DEFINITELY don't want to miss this. I will have a surprise for you when I get home tonight. Promise.


	18. The Warrior That Sleeps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Will you marry me?” Erlen blurted out before he could stop himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Hope y'all enjoy the non-edited version. I was in a rush to get it out as you all have been so patient.

     The question had tumbled out of Erlen’s mouth before he could even stop himself. He’d been sure, almost since the first day he’d ever met Fili, that they’d be married. To him, this was just the next step in a rocky courtship that they held. Fili stared back at Erlen, contemplating, as if it were actually a hard question to answer. But maybe, to Fili, it was. Erlen never forgot what the younger dwarf had given up to protect his family, what he’d sacrificed for the love of someone he considered family.

     “O-of course, you don’t have to.” Erlen quickly covered up his embarrassment, “It’s your decision.”

     “Yes,” Fili cut in. It wasn’t the answer to the question but rather an agreement to the statement. “It is my decision.” Fili withdrew himself from Erlen’s loose embrace. The patter of feet signaling that the couple needed to be dressed to accept the children. “Give me some time?”

     “Even though,”Erlen was about to speak again before he thought of it, “never mind, I’m sorry.”

     “Even though I’ve been making every step here towards a future with only you?” Fili didn’t look at Erlen when he spoke. He was just as frustrated as Erlen was. “I know, I don’t really know what I want yet. But I know that I want you. I love you, you love me, and Eruil. And Mahal only knows how you can keep forgiving me for everything I’ve done against you.” 

     “Is that why you won’t marry me yet?” Just then, the door opened and Eruil came tumbling into the room, screeching as he was chased by Erskin and Nirin. The light on Fili’s face made something in Erlen’s gut twist with want. Fili was a beautiful and strong dwarf, one who deserves everything in Middle Earth and more.

     “Good morning, my son!” Fili called out. He pet the downy soft blond-white hair of his sun and wrapped arms around him as if to protect him from Erskin. Nirin and her noble steed, Erskin, galloped around the room chasing them down. Erlen made to dive in front of his brother, who trotted right over him, and began trying to attack the fallen dwarf. 

     “Go, my love, go and save ye self!” Erlen signed and fell to his dramatic death, gored by imaginary hooves. Nirin couldn’t have been happier. Fili and Eruil jumped onto the bed and hid underneath the – thankfully clean – sheets.

     “Eru!” Nirin called to her cousin, the adults had laughed when Nirin would call the blond dwarf a deity’s name. “Eru, come, out, OUT!” She shrilled, tousling her baby black curls and laughing with her mother’s rosy cheeks, her father’s chin jutting out proudly. “Eru, out!”

     Fili could feel Nirin jabbing at the sheets, trying to get her prey to come out of hiding. “Oh, no! My son!” Eruil giggled, bright blue-green eyes glittering up at his father, he still looked to Fili to make sure that the situation was nothing less than fine. Eruil fed off of Fili’s emotions and displays of them as well.

     There had been a time during this past winter, when Eruil couldn’t be soothed or reasoned with. His usually mild-mannered son threw tantrums and was anything but showing the best of the levelheadedness of his true father. Eruil would sometimes begin crying for no reason, sitting at meals he would throw his flagon or food and begin wailing that Fili was at the end of his ropes. Even when Erlen would attempt to step in and distract the lad, he would look to Fili, then back to Erlen, then Fili again and cry even louder.

     It wasn’t until after that that Fili discovered that Eruil would read his papa’s emotion on his face and translate it to love, fear, anticipation, it was when Fili remembered that Elves were deeply emotional creatures – that they could only read one another with their sharp eyes.  After realizing that his son was more in tune with him than he’d realized, Fili began paying attention to what mask he was wearing. It helped that Erskin wasn’t afraid to communicate with the elder blonde dwarf and let him know when he was emoting. Eruil was gradually able to trust Erlen the way he had a few months prior to the invasion.

     Now, here under the blankets hiding from and imaginary foe, Eruil still was reading his papa’s reactions. Fili wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t ever be afraid again.

     “Are you ready to attack?” Fili asked being overly dramatic with pulling a weapon out of thin air, “We’ll slay the beasts before they know what happened.

     “Yes! Papa!” Eruil swished his own fake sword through the air.

     “Not unless the _Shar’reth_ King attacks first!” Erlen roared deep in his chest and gathered up the blankets around Fili and Eruil. Fili yelped and giggled, tickling his son to reassure him that everything was alright. Eruil looked like he wanted to panic, but after feeling his Adad’s fingers digging into his sides to tickle him too, the blond elf-dwarf shrieked at the double attack.

     “No, no!” Eruil giggled. Nirin was able to get the blankets from off of the trapped pair and join in on the attack, Erskin following and laughing too.

     It were moments like these, the lazy-enough mornings, the warm sun settling over the couple, playing with his son, their son, and enjoying how life had turned out. Fili had assumed that he would have to live the rest of his life struggling to just be okay with being banished. But, against all odds, he’d found love. He’d found someone that loved him and his son, enveloped them into a nest of security and acceptance.

      Fili would have to admit, that he’d often thought about making sure that his aunt and cousin were going to be fine in Hobbiton, make sure that Bilbo didn’t want for anything, that Nirin would be accepted into the community and be on his way back. Of course, there’d be some explaining and story creating as to how he didn’t know who was his child’s father. He would have had to play to carefully, as most of those in the Watch would love to see the golden heir fall. Not to mention that there were strict socially enforced rules about allowing carriers to hold positions as high as Fili. For the most part, carriers were found to be more protective and ruthless, but not as willing to die with their information if captured. There was a reason to protect the carriers by keeping them out of harm’s way.

     But now, with how things have developed and unfolded the way they did, Fili couldn’t have   ever dreamed of falling in love. Truly and wretchedly in love. Erlen filled something in Fili’s chest that had been left gaping, a maw of loneliness and heartache for many reason. Watching his uncle snap and force himself to strike his own heir, to banish those he loves, as there’s no denying that Tho- the King still loved them. But being in Erlen’s calming embrace brought out something that Fili didn’t know he had or could ever show in front of anyone. That he cared too.

 

\--

 

     Bilbo Baggins was an incredibly simple creature. This much was true for her whole race. Hobbits weren’t in need for much, family, food, and a good garden. Bilbo had food, and she now had a family, but she didn’t have a garden, or the type of family that her bones still ached for.  She was still alone, in a way that Fili had been able to fill with Erlen. She sighed for the thirteenth time that morning, stirring the porridge in the pot, listening to the other adults discuss moving the herd back inside for the early winter.

     “What’s wrong, Ms. Bilbo?” Ghel asked, coddling his newborn and fighting off his husband’s hands at the same time, a terrific feat all things considered.

     “Nothing, my boy,” Bilbo had gotten used to calling almost all of those ‘younger’ than her by endearments, never mind that they’ve lived longer than her, she was more mature than any of them… combined most days.

     “That isn’t nothing, Bilbo,” Erska commented from the stove, she pulled out some bridies and roasted tatties. “You don’t fret easily, for nothing.”

     “Could you have said that years ago?” Bilbo muttered under hear breath, but the dwarves still heard her.

     “What do you mean?” Karsa asked, shaking out his stinging hand away from his husband.

     “Only that The Company that I traveled to Erebor with always teased me for worrying for nothing.” Bilbo remembered her first week on the road, though still within the Shire, she’d been terribly frightened by anything that moved that she’d lost so much sleep. Sometimes it feels as if she’s never been able to catch up. Why, she’d found three silver hairs just yesterday! A testament to how much she worries. “I’d jump at the sound of crickets during the night. They would laugh and tease and make fun.” Bilbo smiled, recalling those simpler times. “I miss them. All of them.”

     Bilbo kept stirring the food, curly hair falling out of her loose braid.

     She’d grown it out since having Nirin, on the road she’d kept it short to pass off as a male to any other’s on the journey with The Company. She wouldn’t want to gain the reputation of a harlot amongst soldiers, the only female (and she thought the only carrier), in the group. Those who passed by leered at her enough with her more masculine clothing and nearly shorn hair. But Thorin had seen past the battered clothes and the tousled hair, he’d seen her rosy cheeks, her curvy figure and lilting smile.

     Oh how she missed how he made her feel. How one look her way made her ears blush, how with just a simple brush of knuckles against her shoulder made her shiver and shake. He’d taken care of her too, on the road, making sure that she was sated and pleased as best as he could. Sometimes he wouldn’t take any pleasure for himself. And that left her feeling as if she needed to prove herself worthy even more. With every excuse he’d had not to bed her, not to come to completion within her as she had wanted to beg him to do, she’d only wanted to prove herself strong enough to be his equal. After all, how much does a hobbit have to prove to be dwarf enough for a king?

     But he’d always kiss her deeply, apologetically, flutter fingers against her mound, suckle her breasts gently, and knead her backside and turn her to a writhing mound of pleasure. That was the only apology he’d known. The only way he knew how to say he was sorry. When they’d fought he’d come begging for her forgiveness that evening. Promising to do anything to make her happy. She didn’t feel bad demanding that he bed her, to fuck her so completely that she’d forget her name, much less his, to come so deeply inside of her that he’d truly regret not giving it to her every night.  And he would. Gladly. He would regret not giving her everything she deserved. He’d talk about the mounds of treasure he’d laden her with. She talked about the flowers she’d weave in his hair. And what made her feel as if he loved her, was his only demand that the flowers would be placed so that his crown wouldn’t crush them, that she’d wear identical flowers in her braids after growing her hair again.

     And maybe that was why she’d grown her hair out, the first since being a tween, it reached to the middle of her shoulder blades now, thick and curly, hating to be confined to something as base as a braid. Now she remembers why she’d originally had it cut, and not to look more like a wide eyed lad.

     “Most of all, I miss not being able to celebrate my birthday with them.” She added just a pinch more salt to the porridge just as Fili and Erlen came into the kitchen toting the children.

     “That’s right!” Fili exclaimed. “You didn’t see what we had, erm, well, gotten you for your birthday.” The carriers expression crumbled with guilt. “Bofur had Bifur carve you a cheese bowl, and Bombur was going to cook you a big pork roast with wild herbs and lavender. Dwalin and Nori had a knife ready for you too.”

     “Birthday?” Ghel asked, slapping his husbands hands again as he fed his son. “When is your birthday, Bilbo?”

     “Fifteenth of November.” Bilbo said, proud that she wasn’t blushing with embarrassment as she would have years ago.

     “Why that’s a few more days!” Erska said, laying out the tatties and bridies, fending off her youngest son’s greedy fingers. What was it with dwarves getting needy?

     “Yes, and traditional Hobbit birthdays require that I hand out presents, not the other way round.” Bilbo made sure she was as stern as possible. “It’s a gift from me to you lot to thank you for being in my life. And I know it’s the opposite for dwarves but-“

     “Us,” someone said, and Bilbo snapped her head up. Karsa had won and had enveloped his husband and son in an embrace from behind. “You’re as much dwarf as an outsider can be, Ms. Bilbo. The only thing missing is a beard.”

     “And I would look great with one wouldn’t I?” Bilbo chuckled, not missing a beat.

     Her Hobbit sensibilities had died some years ago, leaving only her adopted dwarveness. She had often dreamed about waking up with a beard as thick and beautiful as Thorin’s, only to wake up and be surprised that her face was smooth. She’d abandoned so much for such little return. And if she was going to be proud and happy for anything in her life it would be her daughter.

     “Mama, party?” Nirin’s eyes lit up, it seemed no matter which race you looked at, the prospect of a party was always invigorating.

     “Oh, alright. If you lot insist on having a birthday party for me, we shall.” Bilbo turned back around from attending the pot. “But I get to make the cake. It’s at least something that I love doing.”

     “Why Miss Bilbo, we would dream of interrupting you in your kitchen.” Erska, the mischievous nymph that she was, grinned with that light in her eyes.

 

\--

 

     Three days. It had taken that lot three days to find or craft something for Bilbo. All of it useful and all of it beautiful. A chest for her growing collection of clothing and knitting supplies, carved out of Oak of course (she couldn’t escape it), from Erlen; A set of ten beautiful painted and carved ivory beads for her hair from Karsa; Two bolts of beautifully stitched fabric from Erska’s collection; a pair of throwing axes from Fili (to which he’d promised to teach her to use); Erskin’s favorite book (ah the gift from children); a portrait of her and Nirin in charcoal from Doreth; and a carrier’s knife and studded leather belt from Ghel.

     It was almost overwhelming, the gift giving, the merry making, Nirin’s laughter and joy at learning how to dance with Erskin. Life amongst dwarves were just as Thorin had promised. She was sure, that if he were here now, that he’d be proud of her. And that thought, is what keeps her going. Even when her nephew had tried to get her mind off Thorin by pointing out the available dwarrows during the summer.

     He was to squat, he was too round, he was too nice, and he was too stubborn. There was no one that caught Bilbo’s eye, and there would be no one else in her unusually long life. Even apart Bilbo would feel that she would be cheating on Thorin, even after all that had happened. Her heart still belonged to him. And, to her, that’s how it was always going to be. She only prayed Mahal would let her into the Halls, only for a while, to see him one last time in the afterlife.

     But she could not be distracted from seeing her daughter throw a fork across the room to plant itself temporarily in the wall. The joy Nirin had at being able to throw like her cousin Fili, to see Fili and Erlen only growing closer and closer as the days passed. There was no amounting to her happiness and pride that she’d found herself a new family, even if she’d thrown away the only other chance she had only short years ago.

     “Amad, sleepy?” Nirin asked through a yawn herself. Nirin rubbed her eyes, less than half the size of her mother Nirin was growing like a sprout, half a head taller than her younger cousin.

     “Yes, dear, Amad is getting sleepy.” Bilbo replied. Cake eaten, ale drunk, and games played, Bilbo held onto her daughter, Nirin cradling one of Bilbo’s new throwing axes. If her daughter was _anything_ like her Adad, Bilbo was going to have a great warrior for a daughter. Even if the south didn’t recognize carriers as such, Nirin was going to be the best. “I’ll tell you The Story if you promise to take your bath tomorrow first thing.”

     “YES!” Nirin was suddenly awake. She’d had a habit of running off from her Amad just as the bath was warm and ready, streaking down the halls in her bare feet. Nirin hated baths, but would do anything for a story from her Amad. “Story, story! Eru, story!”

     “Yay!” Eruil, as energetic and happy as ever, leapt from his Adad’s embrace and landed lithely on the flagstone floor. Every day they were all reminded of Eruil’s elven heritage, the elf-dwarf, or dwelf as Fili had begun calling him, was agile, long limbed and nimble. But was as heavy and sturdy as any dwarf his age, Bilbo could agree with that.

     “Right, it all began one afternoon day, I was sitting in my garden, weary from the summer sun and gardening all day when a loud little bumble bee came flying my way. He was a round, button of a thing, trembling with fear. He cried to me: “’Help, help! My little ones are in trouble, help!’” here, Bilbo tickled the children rubbing her nose with Nirin and touching foreheads with Eruil.

     Bilbo continued on with her story, how she helped Miss Bumblebee free her children from an angry spider’s web. Bilbo would catch Fili shivering at the memory of such spiders catching their prey in webs, and Bilbo didn’t blame him. She still had nightmares of those things. But what she caught him doing with his usually busy hands was surprising. He was rubbing his stomach distractedly, as if he didn’t realize he was doing it. And later that night, before the children went to bed, Nirin had bent over, looking between her legs and asked Fili, “Can you see?”

     The whole family blushed at such behavior, but Bilbo knew what it had meant. After all, dwarves had their honeyed breads and Hobbits had tattle-tale children like Nirin. She just hoped that the couple would be properly wed – as young dwarves should be when starting their own family – before the little one came.

 

\--

 

    “She’s pregnant.” Kili watched his uncle pace around in their chambers. Tauriel had already given birth to their second and thankfully healthy child when Thorin had blurted out what had been bothering him for two months now. “She’s pregnant and using my child against me.”

     “What do you mean?” Kili asked, almost bored. He had been losing sleep trying to take care of his son (another son!) in the night while Tauriel caught her rest.

     “She’s threatened to terminate if I don’t give her what she wants.” Thorin almost choked on his anger, then, collapsed into a plush chair. “Congratulations on a healthy son, by the way.”

     “Thanks.” Kili replied automatically. The gift that they’d received from Thorin elegant in its simplicity. He had trees and other plants brought in from the cold winter, those only that can survive with little light inside while a harsh December built its snowy embankments. Tauriel and Zirak (after the great craftsman Gamil Zirak) had greatly improved in health after the trees had been added. Kili was never so thankful to his uncle… at least until now. “Do you not want an heir?”

     “I have you.” Thorin grumped. He was good for that recently. Ever since the King had been strong armed by his wife to keep around, husbands from the armies accompanying him had been happier to be home with their wives and carriers.

     “So why marry?” Though Kili knew the answer already.

     “Because I couldn’t have her.”

     The admission stole air out of Kili’s lungs. His head wiped towards his uncle, his King, and realized, finally, that he wasn’t the only one suffering from loss. But what to say to that that Kili hadn’t tried to shout down the walls of the great Erebor? He’d harangued Thorin for years after his brother’s banishment. Why, why? WHY!? “Why?”

     The sound didn’t echo, it didn’t carry in the cold war chambers, now Thorin’s only reprieve as carriers can’t enter. Thorin flinched though, as if the word had physically struck him. Thorin’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. He reached behind his head, unclasping the greater, heavier gold clap that hid underneath his hair. There, he revealed a small, intricate braid with even smaller, purple flowers.

_“These, Kili, mean trust and loyalty.” Bilbo sat in the middle of Beorn’s garden, thick tunic wrapped carefully around her as if she were cold. Fili and Kili hadn’t asked about her choice in more layers of clothing, but Bilbo had told them anyways, that because she was losing her Hobbitness with Durin’s Folk, she was becoming colder. Which didn’t make any sense to Kili. “Do you think Thorin would like them?”_

_“Definitely.” Kili crowed, then covered his mouth, remembering that Bilbo had called them over in secret. “Are you going to give him a braid?”_

_“If he lets me.” Bilbo had blushed, she seemed to glow even brighter at the admission._

     “I didn’t think you let her.” Kili spoke in wonderment. “She’d told us she was going to ask.”

     “She handn’t,” Thorin let the preciously small braid drop, then he gathered his hair as he normally did, reclosed the clasp, and sat stiffly in his chair once again. “not that day. She told me that you two were in on it. But she hadn’t asked until the night before – before –“

     “Before you banished her.” Kili tried to stab at Thorin. The full body quake did nothing to soothe Kili, it only made him feel like the monster Thorin was.

     “Yes.” Fat tears abruptly rolled down Thorin’s cheeks.

     Kili knew that he would never _say_ sorry. The Company knew how he apologized to the only woman whom he loved above all else.

     The gold, the King’s Stone, the throne, Erebor, his Queen, a coming child, all of that was shadowed by the knowledge that Thorin would never have his happiness again. Then, something struck Kili.

     “Did you even have the Gold Sickness?” Kili asked, voice pinched, worried at what the answer might be. He remembers, now, seeing the same tears that leaked on his King flow freely that night. “Uncle?” he said more sternly.

     Thorin flinched again, it was becoming habit when recalling the past. The king wiped his eyes with his unadorned hands, and suddenly, as if a cloud had lifted from Kili’s eyes, he saw Thorin truly.

     Thorin’s cloth was still plain and simple (as much as a King can get) he wore no jewels or adornments, Thorin was simply dressed. It was as if he didn’t care for riches or gold, jewels never caught his fancy as it would any other dwarf. Kili realized he was more richly dressed and more presentable than Thorin. A sick, gut twist of awareness caught Kili and threatened to make him cry.

     “You never had it. You never had the Sickness.” Kili stood, leaning heavily against his cane, walking over to Thorin who raised himself from his seat at the same time. Thorin tried running towards the door, the only one he could escape from as Thorin would have to pass by Kili for the main one. Thorin threw open the door and entered… a dark room, and dragged Kili in with him.

     The door slammed, and there, concealed in darkness, Thorin covered Kili’s lips with his hands, and pressed the younger dwarf, once again, against the walls. “You know not what you speak of. How many times must I remind you of your place?” Thorin’s voice was cracking, threatening to break. “Stop asking about the past. Stop trying to relive it. There is only pain there.” Thorin’s forehead landed on Kili’s chest, collarbone hurting against Thorin’s simple gold crown, “Just stop, please, Kili. Stop.”

     Kili’s shock didn’t keep his ears from listening to Thorin crying. His shirts soaked up the tears, muffled Thorin’s half abandoned shouts, but they couldn’t hide the fact that Thorin shook with clear need. A need that made Kili miss his brother all over again. But, in an attempt to never make his uncle this pained again, Kili had to swear to himself to never think of his brother again. He was gone, they were gone. His children were out of his reach, his lover, his brother, gone forever. His children and children’s children, for five generations can never be spoke of. His brother may have well never have existed. But the pain of memories were clearly there.

     Chasing rockchucks across gorges, hunting deer in the misty morning, their first kiss surrounded by dewed daisies, _nadad_ coming back from his first fight in Kili’s name, of firm hands over clothed erections, moaning in completion against his mouth. Learning to walk, learning to fight, learning to love, learning to never give up… but there had to be a time to give up, hadn’t there? Thorin was right, no matter how much the King himself wanted Bilbo and _nadad_ back, there was no rewriting laws to suit his whims.

     “It’s okay, uncle.” Kili rocked them in the dark, “I’m done. It’s done. I’m sorry.” It was the most painful thing next to physically letting him go. “I’m done.”

     And he would have to be. He had to be dead to Kili that was the only way he’d live without causing his uncle anymore pain.

     “I just,” Thorin spoke quietly, as if he were the child and Kili the adult, “I want her back.”

     But it couldn’t be. The King had spoken, the law written before then. Their lovers couldn’t come back, no matter what they did.

 

\--

 

     December brought much snow, more than what Bilbo remembered. Then again, she hadn’t had enough experience with the north.

     “These flakes are called _daethshuiiknil_ , ‘small round snow’.” It was a headache to Bilbo to hear the Northern terms being used, and she wasn’t the one being taught them. “They don’t hold together and can cause an avalanche if you’re not careful.”

     Erska taught Fili as the lad rolled out the bread he was going to share with Erlen and the others. Bilbo was happy that Fili was finally going to tell Erlen that he was pregnant, but she was also concerned because she knew how much Fili wanted to be married before having another child.

     “ _Daathshuiiknil.”_ Fili repeated after his lover’s mother. He unconsciously stroked his stomach when his hands weren’t busy, which was rare during the Stocking Days. November’s snow came early, Fili and the rest of the carriers made sure the larder was properly stocked, the pantry full, and winter’s firewood gathered before the snow got too deep. The males moved the herds in after they threshed the straw, lay some down for fresh bedding for both two-legged and four-legged inhabitants, moved all the grain and oats in, stored molasses and what was left of the hive’s deposited in the great honey jar in the middle of the table. The same honey jar that Fili was using to make his celebratory bread.

     “No,” Erska said, “ _Da-eth-shuiiknil.”_ She broke down the first two syllables for Fili to hear his mistake. Such little slights in Northern dialect made great mistakes, “you’re saying large fluffy snow, which is ideal for traveling.”

     “Wouldn’t want to mix those up, lad.” Bilbo said in all seriousness. She tapped her knitting needle against her daughter’s thieving hands. Nirin pulled them back from the table before she could pinch off some dough for herself. Fili hadn’t even seen her attempt to steal the bread.

     “Why you little fox!” Fili got after Nirin, completely missing, again, his own son pinching off a piece from beside him. Bilbo worried that Nirin was teaching her little cousin some bad habits. After all, a burglar’s daughter is a burglar too. That was, until she saw both children go running up to Erskin, sharing their spoils with the older child, Doreth not partaking in their thieving ways.

     “Don’t forget to share with Erlen exactly why you made this bread, son,” Erska was already treating Fili as if the couple were married. “He’s not going to remember that your honeyed bread means you’re-“

     “Shh, here he comes!” Fili tried to hush the chief, who smiled with her dimples and walked away.

     Erlen and Karsa came from upstairs, Fili was surprised to know that the smell didn’t carry up as he thought it did last year. Karsa went straight for Ghel, wrapping him in his dirty arms and kissing him as if they’d been separated for ages rather than hours. Erlen and Fili laughed as Ghel tried prying himself out complaining about a crying child (who in fact was not crying).

     “Care to surrender a kiss as well?” Erlen snaked his arms around Fili’s midsection, Erlen’s habit of rubbing or touching Fili’s stomach made the blonde’s head swim with worry. Does he already know that I’m pregnant?

     “Only if you get after your son. He and Nirin have been stealing from this bread all morning.” Fili blushed unexpectedly when Erlen leaned in close and chuckled deeply against his ear. The sound felt like velvet around his ear, causing him to shiver, desire stirring in his loins.

     “Might as well give it up. The daughter of a burglar and the son of a Watcher… it’s a losing battle, love.” Erlen kissed Fili just behind his ear, a place Erlen discovered made Fili’s knees go weak, and when he was pumping inside of him quickly, Fili would scream when lightly bitten there. Fili was so responsive to biting and suckling on certain parts of his skin, it always surprised Erlen when he discovers another spot that makes Fili shake with want.

     “Well then, kindly remove yourself and wash for dinner. It’s going to get cold the way you dwarrows carry on.” Fili felt fingers pinching his arse as Erlen followed orders. He raised his eyes to the heavens and laughed at his lover. His eyes met Bilbo’s before Fili put the honey cakes in the oven to bake.

     “Are those your honey cakes, Fili?” Erlen called from the wash bin down the hall.

     “Yes, Erlen,” Fili replied, panicked for some reason. He didn’t know if he was ready to let it be real yet. He was only a few months into his pregnancy, but the prospect of carrying to full term outweighed his fear of losing the child before it was born. A child. They were going to have a child.

     “It already smells delicious.” Just when Fili was going to let Erlen know why he’d made the bread in the first place, fear crept into his chest like ice. Fili snapped his mouth shut and allowed the now clean Erlen to kiss him on the lips before guiding him to sit.

     The tension in Fili’s body wasn’t noticed, not once, by Erlen. It was strange, but all Erlen could do was talk with Karsa, play with Eruil and Nirin, and cuddle next to Fili before the blonde took the bread out. Serving them up, Fili still couldn’t find the words. Bilbo chuckled at Fili’s inability to make the simplest of communications. It wasn’t like Fili to shy away from something needed to be said. But, then again, the last time someone found out that he was pregnant, it had gotten him banished. Bilbo assumed that Fili’s hesitancy came from that memory more than anything else.

     With the children put to bed, the adults decided to break into the first casket of ale, Erska’s decision.

     “What’s wrong, Fili?” Erlen asked. “Why won’t you drink?”

     Fili could smell the spices on Erlen’s breath that in itself was intoxicating, let alone unnerving. He knew he had to say something.

     “Erlen-“ Fili began,

     “What is it love?” Erlen pulled the lounging carrier towards him, on the loveseat Fili hedged and ignored Bilbo and Ghel’s attempts to get Fili to continue.

     “I – you see, I’m – “ Fili bit his lip and in the silence in the middle of his confession a warped and ragged sounding cry came from outside. It was unlike anything Fili had ever heard before.

     “ _Harupt!_ ” Erska called out, she grabbed a dozing Erskin and pulled him down the hall.  Fili knew that a _harupt_ was a snow creature responsible for Erlen’s father’s death. He also knew that he couldn’t sit and stay behind like some defenseless carrier. Out of the dwarrows, forget that he was burdened with a blessing, he was still the best fighter. A terrible calling to protect and the wrenching self-appointed obligation that had become second nature to move with the dwarrows threatened to tear Fili apart.

     Protecting needed him to follow the men outside, to kill the _harupt_ before the snow cat could find a way inside their hovel. And they’ve been known to do that, just as ruthless as the wolves of the south in the Shire, as Bilbo had shared. But his promise also reminded him that he was carrying something precious too. His and Erlen’s first child.

     Even though Fili was torn between staying and following the males out, he was pulling on his thicker clothes and his strapping on his returned weapons. Fili made sure to grab his kerchief, to protect his weak lungs from freezing. And just before he was about to let Erlen know that he needed to stay the red head looked up to him from across the bed, pulling on his own hidden weapons, ones Fili had never seen before.

     “I’m glad you’re coming, Fili,” Erlen admitted, fear obvious in his eyes. “We need someone with your skills.”

     Fili didn’t say anything, just tied his kerchief tightly around his face. Odds be damned, he’s faced greater adversity before… but never while pregnant.

     The whip of the freezing air did nothing against his resolve, Erlen could see that Fili’s physical presence had changed from the stuttering lover next to the fire, to the emboldened fighter that Erlen knew slept just underneath his skin. All of a sudden, Erlen knew that Fili was born to fight, and telling him over a year ago to give up his weapons was a cruel punishment. Fili’s green-blue eyes shone bright with determination, his shoulders set, his gloved grip on his short swords firm, and the widened stance Fili took reminded Erlen that Fili was a prince trained for war.

     The deadly beauty that was his blonde lover didn’t distract him that something wasn’t right. There was a reason Southerners made the honeyed bread, and it had something to do with Fili’s unusual stammering. But the wrangled call of the _harupt_ froze Erlen’s brain, trauma induced panic threatened to set in, and watching his lover move with all the grace Mahal gave his blessed warrior gave Erlen courage. So through the snow they plowed their way, Karsa, the better tracker, following the beast’s movement. Fili was a ghost in the blizzard.


	19. Home: The Last Place She Left Her Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This Dwarf will be the death of me."
> 
> "Tauriel and their children had to come before the ghost of an exile." 
> 
> "He made a dress or robe as earthy, sensible, and beautiful as she was, for his own imaginary Queen, the Queen of his heart. "
> 
> "Bilbo wasn’t your typical hobbit any longer, in fact, besides her ears and her stature you’d never guess that she wasn't a dwarf."

     Fili was never so glad that he wasn’t expected to lead the only other two males in the chase for the _harupt_ , he wouldn’t have been able to get very far before getting lost.

     This past summer was educational enough without having to follow Erlen or Erska around the valley floor orienting himself to the landscape. There were plenty of opportunities for Fili to get lost _with_ a tracker like Erlen. But set him loose in the middle of a blizzard tracking an animal’s prints without knowing the behavior of said beast would only result in Fili ending up on the other side of the world.

      “This way,” Karsa yelled through the wind. The heavy snow fall, _irundushikel_ , was powdery enough that it didn’t impede too much on the knee-high trek through the snow. But the _kuruknikel_ was too icy underneath the powder that Fili kept wondering if it would cut his legs through his trousers. Fili only prayed that the crunch wouldn’t warn the _harupt_ to where they were before they could either chase off the creature or kill it.

     Erlen kept Fili in front of him, making sure that they could both see Karsa trudging through the snow. The blonde dwarf never lost his intensity, although Erlen could see the tension in his lover’s shoulders as they drew nearer to the _harupt_. If he could have avoided it at all, Erlen wouldn’t have Fili out here in the first place, but there was no denying that Fili was the most capable fighter out of the entire north. Even if both Northerners and the Southern Watchers were trained similarly, Fili had been killing beasts and all manner of enemies far longer than Erlen. In fact, Erlen was sure that he’d faint at the mere mention of the length of Fili’s kill list. But that was the type of edge the small hunting group would need against the animal. Someone who didn’t hesitate, someone who was not afraid to kill.

     The snow was deep, making Erlen struggle for every step, his bulky legs strained, and his torso twisted for momentum, arms pumping and keeping his father’s axe above the crust of hard snow. Fili, though, hopped lightly through the snow, as a wolf would through the deep ruts, eyes a piercing green, as if his body was trying to camouflage into the snow covered trees they now entered. The snow fall was lighter in the forest, but it was also quieter, the gentle fall of flakes and the groaning of the trees from the wind the only sound besides their labored breathing. All three dwarves tried to steady their breaths to listen for the beast they tracked.

     Just when Karsa was about to move the group forward, Fili turned, wild unbraided hair flipping through the air, and prepared himself for an attack. Erlen remembered when Fili had done that, waiting for a dwarf to tackle him to the ground before straddling the dwarrow and slicing into his stomach, quick as lightning. And either Fili had slowed down, or the creature was just that much faster, the grey spotted _harupt_ had Fili pinned in the snow. Time froze and Erlen had flashbacks of his father laying similarly in the snow, gutted and slightly eaten before Erlen could come back for him. There was blood arching through the air and the beast shot back, as if wounded, no, he _was_ wounded. There was a roar that made Erlen shiver, muscles locking in fear. He’d not heard that sound in a year.

     Fili rose from the red drenched snow, blood freezing but melting the ice crystals it fell on, as if the crimson liquid tried to make a path for Fili. The blond dwarf, who had been stuttering earlier next to the fire, the same dwarf who had been a ball of confused emotions, the same dwarf who laughed with his son in the blankets on a lazy fall day, stood with all the natural predatory instinct only a warrior would have. Eyes pinpricks of darkness, the intense focus not shifting once even when Karsa cursed and shouted, trying to throw his spear at the creature. It slunk to the right, lazily avoiding the throw, keeping his own focus on Fili. Erlen’s heart threatened to stop, his lover was in danger. But was he really? Fili stalked forward with all the grace he’d practiced, knives twirling in the air, trying to keep himself as loose as possible. And Erlen couldn’t remember ever being this afraid and turned on by his lover than ever before.

      The _harupt_ , long tail, thick fur, and agile body, leapt at Fili, claws up and going for Fili’s shoulders. That’s how the beast attacks, claws digging into the shoulders, fangs around a neck, choking their prey, hind legs cradling the stomach to gut you. But Fili proved that if he wasn’t faster, he definitely was more agile than the biggest killer in the North. The blond rolled, losing his kerchief around his face, snow encrusting his hair, eyebrows, and mustache like diamond dust, snarl twisted on his face, never taking his eyes off of the large cat.

     Erlen and Karsa dove out of the way, nearly avoiding being caught up in the fight between dwarf and animal. In fact, Erlen guessed that at this point, they were both animals, scraping for territory, battling for life. Erlen only had time to wipe the snow from his face before he saw Fili raise his right hand, left wrapping in front of his body and partially behind him. Then there was not even a twitch of muscle to indicate that Fili intended to twirl, throwing the knife in his left hand first, followed immediately by his right. And if the howl of the creature behind Erlen was any indication, Fili found his mark. Erlen followed the throw to the animal and watched as it limped, one knife in its gut, another falling from his right front paw. He looked like he was going after Karsa, who was still struggling out of the deep snow, when he was knocked out of the air by Fili.

     A shout and crunching of snow gave Fili away as he ran as best he could toward the _harupt_ , more knives ready, with the cat refocusing on the blond dwarf. It screeched and lunged away, blood making a trail in the snow, knife falling out from its side. Panting, labored breathing, measured and a controlled lung-full of air echoed and rattled through Erlen’s stiff and near frozen body. He couldn’t believe that that had just happened, in the space of a few moments. Karsa and he had only had time to notice that they were being attacked, and dive out of the way in the last second before becoming the _harupts_ ’ dinner. But Fili, wonderful, beautiful, kind and frightening Fili had beaten off the _harupt,_ black ringed tail disappearing into the distant night.

     “You should have seen me in battle, if your reaction now is any indication.” Fili teased, too used to quick banter after a fight, whether with his _nadadith_ , or some other member of the company, guild or no. “That was a _harupt_?” Fili bent down to retrieve his first fallen knife. “Not so bad, orcs are worse. Not as good as a hider as that beast, but with more cunning murderous intent.”

     Fili sheathed his knife and helped Karsa up and out of the snow, the burgundy-haired dwarf staring at Fili agape. “That beast should have been able to kill us all!” he didn’t even bother to pat himself off of the remainder of the snow before tenderly, carefully, picking up Fili in a hug. “And you _ran it off!_ Bless you, Fili, Mahal bless you!”

    Erlen thought that the over exuberant dwarf would end up kissing Fili out of pure excitement. “Oy, watch whose dwarf you’re touching!” Erlen pulled himself up and out of the snow and trudged over to the pair. Possession and jealousy thrummed through his veins. “He’s mine.”

     “Meant no offense,” Karsa chuckled, putting the Southerner down carefully. “Just that, well, I didn’t expect you to come out with us. I thought that you were-“

     “I couldn’t let you two take care of the beast, alone.” Fili interrupted the red-brunet. He patted down his clothing and took special care of his midsection. Erlen didn’t think that he was injured, but it could have happened when the beast had Fili pinned.

     “You’re not hurt, are ye?” Erlen panicked, physically checking over his lover now. Fili grunted, involuntarily took a step back, and swatted Erlen’s hands away.

     “I’m fine. It’s you lot I was worried about.” Fili visually checked over Erlen, the red-head wondered what he saw. Admiration? Love? Fear? Satisfied, the blond lifted a hand and brushed ice off of Erlen’s beard. “You are alright?”

     “Aye, princess, I am.” Erlen grinned forgetting that they had company. Fili blushed deep red and slapped Erlen over his broad chest. “Sorry, I’m sorry, love, I shouldn’t have-“

     “No, you shouldn’t, now he’s going to tell Ghel, and everything will go to shite after that.” Fili tried walking away but Erlen stopped him by wrapping his large arms around Fili’s waist, lifting him bodily from the ground. “Let me down, you animal. STOP!” panic filled his lover’s voice and Erlen set him down quickly.

     “What’s wrong? You are injured.”

     “No, you bumbling fool!” Fili turned on Erlen, green eyes blazing, “It was what I was trying to tell you in the lodge, I-, I’m-“

     “What? You’re not sick again are ye? I’m sorry, love, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have even asked you to come out here. What if you catch your death and leave me and Eruil behind? Goodness what would Aunt Bilbo say at your sorry state? And me letting you? She wouldn’t let it be, she wouldn’t let me live if I ever let you get sick again, let alone killed. I shouldn’t have asked you out here, you could have been killed. Well, never mind that, what if something happened to you that I couldn’t prevent? What if-“

     Hot lips and iced mustache found their way to Erlen’s mouth. He felt Fili rub his tongue against the roof of his mouth, no heat, just a way to get Erlen to shut up.

     “What if’s will kill you, my heart.” Fili said, gentle as the snow fall. “If you entertain those thoughts you’d die of sickness of the soul before a knife could to your back. I’m trained. I’m a veteran. I know what I’m doing.”

      “Are you serious?” Erlen’s voice sounded incredulous to his own ears.

      “You’ve seen me fight before-“ Fili started, seeming to get honestly mad now, freckles burning red against his nose.

      “No, no,” Erlen tempered off the anger, “you called me your heart. Are you serious?”

      Red splashed Fili’s face again, lips curling inward, trying to hold off a smile and a nod of head. “Yes. My answer is yes. I want to marry.”

 

\--

 

     Erlen was beside himself with joy, his first and most powerful love had agreed to _officially_ marry. Even though they both knew that they would marry sometime, didn’t mean that not having the ceremony made it real. Erlen wanted to take Fili back to the lodge and make sweet love to him all night. They were going to be married!

     “We’d best head back inside.” Karsa interrupted looking chilled to the bone, “It’s getting later and the darkness will set soon. Let’s hope that that beast doesn’t follow us.”

     “He’d be dead by now. There’s no creature I’ve faced that hasn’t died from those wounds.” Fili said confidently, straightening out his tunic that Erlen had messed up. “And I’d like to get next to the fire and hold my son, if I could.”

     “Aye,” Erlen chipped in, making his way back to the lodge through their earlier trail. “I’d like to go back and cuddle with my new family.” Erlen sent a saucy wink to Fili which had no effect except for the blond to roll his eyes heavenward and snort.

     As soon as the trio got back to the lodge, the sun was deep beyond the mountains, leaving the snowy valley to darkness. The wind had finally died out when they made their way inside where the fire was still lit but the others were bolted into their rooms. Karsa made his way directly to his and Ghel’s room, ready to crow about his feats of tracking and attempt to impress his husband enough to make love to him.

     “He never changes,” Erlen commented as Karsa left all of his outer clothes in a wet puddle in the mud room instead of hanging his stuff on brass hooks. “He’s always been impatient when it came to Ghel.”

     Fili was carefully stripping himself down to the last few layers of clothing, weapons placed carefully on the brass hooks to be strapped back on until they reached their room to be safely stored. Eruil hadn’t made any moves to drag the box from the trunk yet, but with Nirin getting too nosey and mischievous, those two would never be safe around a sponge. There was still ice on his mustache and beard, but they’d melt off soon. Erlen was still struggling with closing the door against the snow drift so the blond made his way to the kitchen to make himself a cup of lobelia tea.

     Erlen could be heard from the kitchen, two rooms to the left of the mud room, fighting with a gust of wind. Fili chuckled and set himself to making his tea before his heart calmed and he couldn’t breathe right. The children and the others must be in bed, because soon Fili and Erlen were the only one’s awake.

     “Bloody door,” Erlen came into the too-warm kitchen complaining. “I’m going to have to grease the hinges this spring.”

     “You were supposed to do that this harvest.” Fili teased, stirring in crushed leaves and petals. “Or have you forgotten.”

     “When you’re around I seem to forget a lot of things.” Erlen winked, hiking garb still up, the kerchief bobbing with every breath.

     “Not my fault.” Fili cocked his hip against the counter as Erlen advanced on him, a lascivious gleam in his eyes. Fili swallowed thickly, belly burning with instant desire at seeing the larger dwarf stalk toward him.

     “Now, I believe you were trying to say something earlier.” The space between Erlen and Fili as electric as a summer sky. Erlen was more beast in this instant than he had been recently. Perhaps it was the man’s need to take care of Fili, to protect, and to defend. Fili knew that when the _harupt_ was stalking them he’d been afraid for Erlen’s safety, and who’s to say that Erlen hadn’t felt the same way.

     It had been hot in the kitchen, or that’s what Fíli had blamed the flush in his cheeks for. Coming in from the freezing wind and whipping snow the kitchen seemed like an oven with its prickling heat against his face. His beard and mustache were frozen, dripping with thawing snow – he really wished he hadn’t lost his kerchief. The droplets of water trickled down his throat and made a cold trail down his chest. He was hyperaware of how close they were for all that he tried not to shift under the tickling touch of water down his chest for fear of triggering Erlen into a tussle.

     His golden eyes glowed against the light of the fire and his skin looked just as chilled as Fíli’s own, uncomfortable in the heat of the kitchen. Erlen hadn’t lost his kerchief for it was tied snuggly around his face where only his eye brows and red, red eyelashes were frosted, covered in the melting flakes of ice. Fíli, distracted, watched the snow melt off Erlen’s eyelashes, watched as every time he blinked, they were deposited on his high cheekbones. Fíli realized that he was staring and not answering Erlen’s challenge as he should have. But Aulë he wanted to touch those icy lashes.

     “What?” Fíli finally stammered out, feeling the braids of his beard dripping more ice down his front. It tickled more and he couldn’t help the small shift to attempt to get his tunic to absorb the water. He knew what his twitching would have done to Erlen, and he hated it when he was right. Fíli’s shoulder rolled back, trying to pull his tunic tighter against his chest, but it only made the red-headed dwarf invade more of his personal space. If Fíli thought it was warm earlier, the heat was near breathtaking when Erlen’s body heat somehow absorbed through the thick layers of Fíli’s furs.

     “You heard me, pretty boy.” Though no longer a boy, and hardly pretty in Fíli’s opinion, Erlen’s words made him shiver harder than when his son threw snow down the back of his shirts. His reaction didn’t go unnoticed as Erlen’s eyes shifted minutely, from locking Fíli’s own blue-green ones, to trailing halfway down his face then thinking twice of it. By then Fíli saw how the golden orbs were almost completely swallowed up by the black of his eyes.

     “I- er,” Fíli stumbled for words. He took a small step back with his weak foot, a mistake worse than turning your back on a spine-backed  _harupt_. And Erlen attacked as quickly as the furry creature. Immediately he invaded his space, wide shoulders crowding Fíli’s view. Large hands, a bowman’s hands (hand’s that he was very familiar with when they touched naked skin) reached up to pull down his brown kerchief, and Erlen’s warm breath, still smelling of the sugar cakes from before, rolled over Fíli’s face.

 

     The blond prince inhaled, realizing he had been holding his breath, and caught whiff of the other dwarf’s musk.  _Dear Aul_ ë  _this dwarf_! Fíli finally held his ground, chests bumping into each other as he would have any other challenge by a dwarf. Only this time he was aware of his hearing going fuzzy when he collided with the larger male’s solid form.  Erlen was larger than him, larger than his former king, and wider than Dwalin. He was large without being excessively bulky, as it wouldn’t do him good as a bowman. Erlen was simply solid, and very warm, very, very warm.

     “If you’ve got words with me, ye’d better say them now.” Erlen seemed to grow larger, he now filled all of Fíli’s vision. “Else wise, there’s no telling what I might do next.”

     Fíli felt, rather than saw, the red-head’s right arm move up the side of his body, though not touching. The pressure, the feeling of a predator moving in on you, ghosted up the side of his arm leaving a trail of gooseflesh in its wake. The long, large arm rested just above Fíli’s shoulder and cushioned itself on the padding of the blonde’s coats. He heard Erlen’s fingers dig into the wood beside his hooded head.

     Never one to back down, Fíli swelled his chest, stood straighter, so that his nose  _just_ bumped against the larger dwarf’s chin. Erlen stiffened with Fíli’s movements, no doubt expecting an attack. Fíli lifted his hand from where it gripped the pommel of his short sword at his belt and purposefully dragged it against Erlen’s exposed side. Shocked, but not so startled into backing down, the barbarian’s left hand mimicked its right and planted itself against the other side of Fíli’s head, effectively trapping him.

     There was the feeling of something tugging deep inside Fíli, though where it came from he didn’t know, it tugged and pulled and made the air cackle around them as if a white bolt of sky fire were going to land between them. Touch was muted behind the thick glove, Fíli wanted to take it off, to feel Erlen’s leather, but he dragged it harder up his sides, making sure the red-head could feel his touch through the fabric and furs.

     Erlen’s eyes were blown wide open, whether the beast inside or something else brewed in them, Fíli didn’t want to know. All he needed, was the feeling of Erlen grasped between his hands, that firm, full body pinned underneath his hands, breath coming uneven until his back bowed with pleasure. The image of what the other dwarf would look like in fire light, body glistening with sweat, his red, rope-like hair singing with his beads as he tossed his head to and fro. Fíli suddenly wanted to hear what type of sounds he could drag out of this dwarf.

     His hands made it to the junction of torso and arms, Fíli hesitated before allowing his hands to roam to the broad expanse of back, just on the bone blade of his shoulders. Erlen crowded even more,  _soon_ , Fíli felt the man’s hips draw nearer to his own. Soon, Erlen would feel what was inside of his trousers, his fire-hot rod ready to pound. Fíli gasped at the image of shoving his cock between mounds of flesh, or the tender melt of another’s between his legs.

     “Ew.” Came a small, bell-like voice. Fíli’s head snapped toward the sound, unlike one would against an enemy, rather than a papa would at being caught stealing kisses by his son. Fíli’s eyes went impossibly round at what his son may be seeing. Erlen, the boy’s self-proclaimed father, pressing hips against his papa, arms pinned against the wall behind him, his own traitorous hands splayed across the larger dwarf’s back. Both breathing too hard.

     “Oi, little tyke!” Erlen unhurriedly broke contact, easily pulling out of Fíli’s hold. “What’re you doin’ up? Eh? Little boy’s should be in bed.”

     Erlen left Fíli shaking against the wall, the smaller dwarf’s knees almost buckling. It was all of a sudden too hot for any amount of clothing. But the former prince wouldn’t lose all sense of propriety just because he couldn’t keep his libido in check.

     The larger dwarf knelt down in front of Fíli’s blonde son, and picked him up with the same ease and care one would have for a new born kitten. And Fíli had been surprised with how gentle the other dwarf - usually brash, careless with words and actions – was with a newborn animal. Kitten, mutt, sheep, or any of the other herds they had. The man, when given a new born animal, melted. It was almost unsettling with how lit the man’s face would become, tenderly prodding a head to hold itself up, or how carefully the dwarf would handle Fíli’s son.

     The boy held out his tired arms to be picked up, sleepy eyes half closed by the time his head hit his ‘father’s’ shoulders. Erlen patted the boy’s back and quietly trod down the hall, humming out of tune under his breath.

     Fíli dragged a shaking, gloved hand across his face, tugging punishingly against his beard. He grunted, threw his head back into the wall and let out a huge sigh. His cock still throbbed as he remembered the feeling of the dwarf underneath his hands. That blasted dwarf who had  _flexed_  when dragging his hands across Erlen’s back. The musk caught in his nose and wouldn’t leave, the heat in his body stolen from that golden-eyed man. And his eyes, those eyes that burned into his soul every time he caught him staring at Fíli.

     “This dwarf will be the death of me.”

 

\--

 

     It was the next day with the Prince of Erebor awoke remembering his promise to his uncle. While they cried together for a more real loss in that darkened room, Kili tried to forget who his brother ever was. Blond, shining as warm as the sun true and steady as it trekked across the sky, not allowing anything to keep it from its path. For whatever tried to stop him, would soon perish, in one way or another. His smile, when he’d afford it, was full of his dimples, his whole face and body would relax and they’d both forget that they were sons of Durin, they’d forget where they were and why they were doing it. _Nadad_ was infectious with his commitment, harnessing his authority and strength, despite him being a carrier, he’d trained for so long to be a warrior prince that most everyone forgot that he was a carrier, even himself. And even though _nadad_ had excelled in fighting and planning, he had enjoyed the simple things in life. Laying in the sun in the middle of a daisy field, insects buzzing around and not swatting at them as they flew around his head. _Nadad_ was the epitome of peace.

     There hadn’t been very many days where _nadad_ had lost his temper, but when he had he was a raging bull, a force of nature. Not like a rock slide like most dwarves can be, but a flood, maybe, he made you think that you could tempt his waters, cross him and survive, but it was when you were ankle deep in his rage that you didn’t know you were in trouble. For if you thought you had a foothold at the ankles, then you think you can make it at knee deep, and you get further in and deeper and before you know it, a blade is at your neck, your laying crumpled in the ground from a quick beating, or your dead on the battlefield. His easy going nature and beauty drew people in, making them forget his strength. And he was uncontested in the corrals where other soldiers trained. Dwarrows scrabbled to fight against him, to challenge his blades. Others knew better, those were the ones that bet against the challenger, the ones that could make a living off of those bets.

     But his brother was also a voracious lover, he could tell even though they’d never done the act. Kili could tell that _nadad_ had been holding back so much of himself. He was always gentle as a brother, forceful in battle, how could he not be both as a lover? To love is to strip away all the barriers one has in company, to become this raw animal of lovemaking. And _nadad_ would be an animal at it. He loved being bit hard enough to feel it, to be gripped and pulled and handled as if he wouldn’t break like the carrier he was. And after he’d give birth he’d be a gentle and soft creature, keeping his fighting urge tightly reigned in. It was that that Kili wanted to see. To see _nadad_ trying to hold it all back against his training. To allow himself to be served, saved, and protected like the most beautiful of mica. To sit on a shelf, adorned with other gems and jewels and his very essence hidden away for devious consumption under the sheets.

     There were many nights that Kili had entertained taking his brother this way. To make him keen with pretty noises as he thrust inside of him, as he bit his way up his neck, as he pulled on taught nipples, played with the piercings that he would make his brother get. It made Kili hard just thinking about all the things he’d wanted to do. But now that he’d promised that he’d forget who the Exile even was, he’d had to focus that much harder not to imagine the Exile by his side during the day. Of what the Exile would do at this meeting or how the Exile would rise to the challenge of that Dwarf. Casual, everyday things would eventually kill him if Kili hadn’t made a promise to stop. For both of their sakes he had to stop.

     Tauriel and their children had to come before the ghost of an exile.

 

\--

 

     Exiles. That’s what they were, but oh, they were so much more. Thorin’s tears last night weren’t false, they were the show of his true emotions, his fears and his failures, his need for his family back. To have his lover, his most powerful ally (even if she’d only consider herself the hindrance he’d shamed her to be), the only female who could make him bow and apologize before his company, the only person in the whole world who made him want to be better and to cower him before her anger. Yes, she’d been the perfect match for himself and he mourned what they should have had.

     She deserved so much more than a cowardly King who allowed a piece of parchment rule their love life, to rule _her_ life. At the end of the battle, even if Dain had come to take the throne from him, the dwarrow would have had to submit, the same as the rest of the kings, to a peace treaty before fighting against the orc’s and goblin’s numbers. But who could have seen these events happening? Not _Tharkun_ and all of his wisdom, nor himself, most importantly.

     Bilbo Baggins, that name would forever resound in Thorin’s heart and memory. If he spent the rest of his life never seeing or hearing of her again, at least he would have her name. Her laugh, joyful and easy once you got her going, her soft body, molding against his, her small hands against his face, the heat of her core as she tightened and quivered in pleasure around him. She was a joy to have, to hold, and as unbridled as any wild and solemn creature. Just thinking of her always made Thorin’s day brighten.

     But soon enough, the storm clouds would return, the Queen would descend on him like carrions from the sky, picking at his sun bleached bones. She sapped all the warmth and happiness he’d ever had and turned him into an ugly, seething beast who cowed to the Queens every demand, if only to get her away from him.

     “I need four bolts of this fabric, my King,” she used his title as one would currency. “The better to clothe our child in when he arrives.”

     She was round, plump with a growing child and ready at any day. And for as much as she was taking care to eat right, to move about to make the child strong, she had made so many threats of poison that Thorin wondered if she’d actually taken any just in spite. Thorin worried about it, about his child coming to harm and that was what made him agree to her wishes.

     “So he should have it.” Thorin agreed tiredly, his chambers invaded by a seamstress who seemed just as cowed as he felt. Thorin was rubbing his head, remnants of his wife’s latest drugging, he’d have to get Nori’s men to protect him at this point. She would either slip a sleeping agent into his drink or something to pick up his pulse and drive him to insatiable need to quench her own. Surely she could have seduced any number of dwarrows to fill her need, why must she torture him?

     “I would like the fabric for my own dress. Maybe five bolts?” She swayed with an open bolt, dancing with the expensive trader’s silk as if it were her lover at her coming out party. “And some pretty jewels. Large opals and shining rubies?”

     “Whatever you want.” Thorin threw his hand down, wishing sorely for a drink, but not wanting to risk being drugged again. The lounging chair he’d cleared off for his own was still covered in reams of swatches, to his left weapons and sheaths, to his right jewels and precious metals. He’d still not given in to give her mithril, which alone belonged to Bilbo. Especially since he’d had the mithril mines shut down and heavily guarded.

     “And I want much.” She said dreamily, ice in her voice, “I need it all.” She placed the fabric down carefully. “For the babe.” She smiled, tried for cute and glowing and failed miserably.

     “Of course.” Thorin agreed distractedly.

     Nakash swished by him, or waddled depending on how you tilted your head and the level of your drunkenness. And stomped passed him to her own chambers adjacent to his. Why she couldn’t have done all this in her room was beyond him, apart from that she knew it made him miserable. He heaved a great sigh and looked toward the poor overworked trader gathering the abandoned bolts of fabric.

     “You had might as well stay, sir,” Thorin said, really wishing he had his malt brandy about now, “she’ll be changing her mind soon, and she will not be getting that many bolts.”

     “Thank goodness on both accounts Your Majesty.” The shriveled man spoke, his demeanor and lack of bulk made him about the size of an overgrown hobbit. “I had promised the same amount to her cousin in the Iron Hills. She’s actually have my head if I didn’t deliver.”

     “I never make promises to her.” Thorin stood and shuffled through a pile of greens and creams, all cotton, wool and linen. “You should never either, not to that lot.”

     “Noted, Your Majesty.” The trader bowed respectively, continuing in gathering the strung out fabric.

     “Have you promised these fabrics to someone?” Thorin held out a pretty green fabric run through with gold stitching, stylized flowers with the bold, angular patters of typical dwarven geometrics. The other fabric was a soft cream cotton, the stitching tight and numerous, making it feel like silk, the other was a red the color of blood, passionate and attention getting.

     “No, Sire, are you interested in such fabric?”

     “Do not speak of it as if it were poor. I know a certain person who would have loved these. Could I get five yards each? And this blue one as well?” Thorin grabbed another one.

     “Excellent choices Majesty. I shall give you a discount, if My Queen cannot have her five bolts, at least I can help you some way.” The trader smiled.

     “Indeed,” Thorin agreed, smiling for the first time since Nakash had entered his chambers with the fabric trader’s cart. “Thank you.”

     It would, if he could remember the pattern correctly, match what she was wearing just before Lake Town, her own coat that matched his when they’d met would look lovely on one of her other outfits. He felt like Bifur’s deranged father, the one who’d taken collecting dolls and calling them his own children, creating and making all of the sets of clothing for a mate who will never return. But for every outfit the Queen was fitted, gaudy, bright, expensive and outlandish, he made a dress or robe as earthy, sensible, and beautiful as _she_ was, for his own imaginary Queen, the Queen of his heart.

    

\--

 

     Bilbo wasn’t your typical hobbit any longer, in fact, besides her ears and her stature you’d never guess that she wasn’t a dwarf. She now shared the same clothing as Erska, flowing pantaloons, tight bodice wrapped with her cloth belt, and the many other dwarf-typical work gauntlets, leather cording’s, and leggings in place of actual boots. They helped to protect her shins when she practiced with Fili.

     Oh, Fili, the poor lad still hasn’t shared with Erlen his state, yet. And for her nephew to go marching out into the snow hunting some predator that they had no clue in how to deal with was madness. She knew he’d be afraid of telling Erlen that he was pregnant. But the larger dwarf had shown that he’s nothing like Fili’s uncle, but trauma was trauma, and Fili _would_ be afraid of sharing the news with Erlen.

     Bilbo looked down at the two, no, three sleeping children – Erskin had shown up and was snuggled cozily next to the fire on her chaise – and counted her blessings that Thorin had never known that she was pregnant. He may well have sent soldiers out to look for his possible heir and steal him away. And once they’d find out that Nirin was a girl, they would probably ridicule her and be on their merry way back to that twice accursed mountain, even if it was grand and beautiful for a hunk of stone.

     Memories of the vastness that was the treasury still made Bilbo’s head spin. What was the rest of the mountain like? Just as beautiful? Just as sturdy and opulent? The green marble had amazed her most of all, and not because it was flattering with the gleam of golden light. The gold color only complimented the sheen of polished rock. It was a marvel, Erebor, and Bilbo wished that she had more time to explore its depths, to claim a room for her own. It would have been a small one, with enough wooden and puffy furnishings to make it as comfortable for a hobbit as rock walls could be. She would have asked for a room with access to a balcony, just a small one, enough to have her own garden of herbs and tomatoes. Maybe she’d grow flowers too, the little purple one’s that Thorin had said he liked.

     Oh! Thorin! Now there was a quick way to ensure that she’d be angry. That tedious, stubborn, beautiful, strong headed, dwarf knew just how to drive her to insanity with the mere memory of him. But trying to put him out of her thoughts was as successful as ignoring that her daughter looked and acted just like him. Black hair, bright, commanding eyes, long dark lashes, handsome scruff of beard (as faint fluff was showing along Nirin’s jaw), and her hands looked like they were going to be as strong as his. Though Nirin had yet to grow into her womanhood (a long way from it if Bilbo had any say in it) she knew that Nirin would take after the Durin’s. Her daughter was already twice the size as Bilbo was at that age.

     One look between the slumbering cousins told Bilbo that they were going to be tall for their age, and perhaps Eruil would be near as tall as his sire. _That spitting elf anyways_. What she wouldn’t give to be able to march into both kingdoms and show those pompous royals a thing or two in respect. Thranduil would learn to behave himself, and Thorin would be so sorry that he’d- that he-

     Goodness, does she really wish, after all these years, that Thorin would change his mind and take her back? Certainly not! But, the madness, the cold-hearted distance that the dwarf had had against her must have been the cause of gold sickness and the pressures of delivering a kingdom to his subjects. It must have all weighed heavily on him, making him gruff and callous. But he wasn’t always like that and she knew it.

     There were many times, in fact there were few times proving opposite, that Thorin was an intensely careful and gentle hearted dwarf. He’d taken in his nephews, taught them, trained them, and raised them. He’d also taken personal responsibility for complete strangers, a rag-tag group of dwarves who’d shown that they were far more worth the salt that they carried. Even she, as humble of expressions that she had for herself, has proven that she was as competent as the rest in her field. Which was burglering, cooking and lovemaking – if she had a complete understanding of what she was worth.

     The heavy front door groaned open, and soon she could hear someone (Karsa) running down the hall and slam a door closed. The ruckous woke Eruil up, rubbing his bleary stone blue eyes he slithered from his nest of blankets he’d created and weaved to the door and followed his parents’ voices in the kitchen. She smiled, knowing that the son of Fili was going to be well taken care of. That he had a papa and an Adad.

     Looking down at her own independent and capable daughter her heart wept, knowing that she’d never know her own father. But it was for the best, she didn’t want _that_ dwarf to be anywhere near her and her daughter. Besides, what use do dwarves have for carriers? Fili had made that fact very clear: none. They had no use for carriers. But Nirin was going to be strong, smart, courageous, because for as much as she showed that she wasn’t a Baggins, she’d proven that she had the brazen attitude of a Took, which complimented her father’s disposition perfectly. And for the fact that her father should be proud about her daughters’ abilities and want to celebrate everything about her, Bilbo wept for the husband and father of her child that she’ll never have. For all she wanted was to be home, and home was the last place she’d left her heart… in Erebor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a sad one... but hopefully this keeps you interested. Still so much more to come you have no idea!


	20. The Death of the Hobbit Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little graphic het sex scene later in this chapter. Just a fair warning to those who may not like it. I did promise some more Bilbo lovin', so now you get Thorin lovin' on Bilbo (dun dun, tsss). 
> 
> Caution at the end. Bring the tissues. No character death I promise.

Fili watched Erlen take their son to their room to sleep the rest of the night. Thankful to be given some time alone to regain his composure that he took the opportunity to think about how to deal with his hair. It was becoming a hindrance in his continued training, and had begun to form a problem as they were chasing after the harupt. He had wanted to put a multitude of braids in his hair to resemble the ropes that his future husband has, but that would only mean he’d have to re-braid every single one every day, and that was a hindrance. He’d thought about getting ropes in his hair but wasn’t sure how to go about asking for them. Fili had this past summer to try to think of a solution that he could live with, but he wanted to avoid remembering anything about Erebor, so braids were out of the question. 

The house was quiet, Karsa and Ghel hadn’t been making too much noise so it was plausible that the pair were asleep, and Bilbo or Erska hadn’t come out to greet them home so there was that. Fili was left alone in the kitchen, staring at the plate of honeyed buns left over from supper. Fili sighed in frustration, he should have known that Erlen wouldn’t have gotten the hint straight away. It seemed that only Bilbo and Erska had caught on, but their reactions weren’t enough to assuage Fili’s fear. 

It was still unclear as to whether or not Erlen was ready to have children this early, especially out of wedlock like this. But then again, Erlen was the one to initiate their first coupling… or was it him? Fili couldn’t really remember, he just remembered wanting Erlen at that one moment, needing to be filled and wanted. Then the aftermath, then wanting him, then anxious about being together… was he really that hot and cold? Thinking back on it, yes, yes he was and Fili groaned now, thinking about how Erlen shouldn’t have even wasted any time on him in the first place. He didn’t know how to be a partner. Fili also didn’t know what a normal couple should be doing at this point in their relationship. Sure he’d been trained on what a prince should be doing, and perhaps he and his wife would have had at least one child by now, and he’d be performing his duties as prince and she would have been presenting herself as crowned princess. Their duties would leave them busy all day, then to come back to their apartments and have some alone time would be in order.

But now, now that Fili wasn’t a prince, he wasn’t sure how the general population went about coupling, courting, and generally being a partnership. He knew that some marry for money, land, trade, or because their partner was the only other option available to them, but some was able to marry for love. And the fact that Fili had turned out to be one of those people frankly scared him out of his wits. Everything that had ever happened in his life had been strategically planned and organized – whether in the Watchers or as a prince. To be going through life now with an illegitimate son to an elven royal line was daunting enough on Fili’s nerves, but now that he was dealing with a new and serious relationship, a possibly real marriage, and a new child Fili felt like everything was spinning madly out of control. 

As a Watcher he’d been able to keep a sort of schedule to his activities, training, weapons development, studying herbs, experimenting with different herbs for poisons and medicine, and learning how to heal basic injuries. Fili’s life was busy and fulfilling, both as a Watcher and a Prince – not to mention that it was a full time job as an elder brother. Staring down into his drink Fili realized that compared to his previous life, this one with Eruil and Erlen had felt better. He wasn’t plagued by the death of his marks, or stressed from princely duties and trainings. His life here, even as the next chief was simple compared to his last life. Fili, though, wouldn’t trade either for anything in the world. Each facet of his life had leant something to who he was now. He’d taken his ailment as a continuous humbling experience, his temper a good way to teach patience, his nightmares as a reassurance that he’d not gone entirely cold, and that his love for Erlen was a testament that even the most disciplined of Watchers fell in love. 

\--

Erlen had been watching Fili for some time, just watching the other dwarf in his environment without any interruptions. He enjoyed watching Fili move about, pure control in every movement, not a step wasted. Fili was a poem in motion. Fluid, beautiful, and always so serious. It was a heartbreak and a joy to finally be able to crack his shell. Fili had been testy, cautious, and suspicious of everything. His lover still was, in some way, but he was Erlens and no one else’s. Erlen could tell that every week that came and went Fili’s haunted past became less and less a dim light in his eyes. A little piece of what Fili had made himself to be in the south was giving way to such a beautiful and complex dwarf. But Erlen knew, somehow, that that’s what Fili had always been. 

“What has that mug done to you now, love?” Erlen asked from across the kitchen. He’d dressed down to his under clothes, broad chest splitting open the buttons down his front (secretly Fili loved those displays of masculinity). Fili’s blond head snapped up from glaring at the mug of tea before him. It seemed to have long since gone cold. 

“Nothing.” Fili answered quickly. His nose and cheeks were still red but flushed darker as the blond dwarf refocused on the cup. Fili’s grey-green eyes gone steely. Erlen shook his head, unfolded his arms and approached his lover. 

“If you want to lie to yourself that much…” Erlen didn’t finish his sentence, letting it hang like a bait. He sat astride the bench, facing his lover, and began rubbing his back. It was a calming gesture that seemed to suck all the tension out of Fili. He sighed and dropped his head closing his eyes. 

“It’s just,” Fili began, taking a breath and steeling himself again, “I’m afraid of so many things. And I know I shouldn’t be but I can’t help that they’re there. I’m not used to being with someone, especially someone like you. I’m also not used to this weather and always being stuck inside, of not being able to hunt and work and escape for a few days at a time.” Fili threw himself back, caught himself on the edge of the table and looked up at the ceiling. Erlen laughed and Fili continued, “I’m not used to the thought of being in love.”  
“I thought you were in love with your brother?” Erlen’s head cocked to the side, humor if not jealousy, tainted his expression. Fili took a moment, thinking, he settled back forwards against the table, cold mug on the table. 

“I don’t think I ever was, at least I’ve never felt for him what I feel for you.” Fili answered quietly, as if he were sharing a horrible secret. “And I haven’t even thought about him for quite some time.”

“I’m not judging, love,” Erlen said rubbing Fili’s back again. He loved touching the dwarrow in front of him, he liked holding him, lightly squeezing his muscles under his hands, loved how it felt to be inside of him. “What you do with your own time-“

“I don’t want you thinking that I’m betraying you with my thoughts.” Fili hadn’t made eye contact with Erlen, but now he looked up at him, forlorn and miserable looking. Erlen wondered why he was feeling the way he was, it wasn’t often that Fili actually shared what was going on in his blond head, but he also knew that he didn’t need to worry about his lover. “Because I think of you every spare moment.”

The confession made a hot stone drop in Erlen’s stomach and twist with desire. “I love you.” Erlen said spontaneously, he meant every word every time, and being able to speak those endearing words were a release to him every single time. A smile bloomed on Fili’s face, embarrassment shone with a flush of redder cheeks. Fili ducked his head and Erlen wanted to hold his lover.

“I love you, too, you beast.” Fili looked back up and lifted a hand to stroke Erlen’s knee. They stayed like that for some time, just happy to be in each other’s presence in the warm kitchen. Fili finished his tea and Erlen helped him to get up and over the bench seats. Fili was more stiff and bruised than he’d admitted earlier and Erlen worried for him. But, of course, the stubborn Southernling brushed off Erlen’s attempts at being coddled. It didn’t, however, keep Erlen from undressing his lover and worshipping his body for a few moments before joining their child in sleep. 

\--

Bilbo had woken up relieved in knowing that her nephew was back in the house and safe. She only wished, wildly and for a moment, that the windows provided a peek into a life she’d thought she left behind. Rolling hills swept white with ice and snow, dead grey-brown grass pressed against the window in a child’s version of plant pressing where the idea was to select flowers instead of grass. Instead of seeing a home where she grew up in, she was able to see the home her daughter could grow up in. And all of a sudden, the thought occurred to her, Nirin would never know of her hobbit traits from their people. That she was well and truly alone here no matter how accepted she was. And she was – disconcertingly – fine with that. 

In her arms, Bilbo could feel her daughter stirring, Erskin had moved from the chaise to make a nest of her pillows above her head. She snickered, imagining Erskin becoming upset about stealing her pillows. 

“Mama,” a soft coo sounded, Bilbo looked down and saw her daughters’ sleep-puffy face barely showing signs of alertness. “M’hungry.”

Bilbo smiled. Her daughter may not grow up surrounded by hobbits, but she’d never grow out of being one. Bilbo kissed her daughters’ head, roused Erskin and marched both to the kitchen where Fili and Ghel were cooking. Ghel was waving spatula and arms around splattering oatmeal at Bilbo and Nirin’s bare feet. Nirin giggled and Bilbo gasped at the flying food but Ghel had continued.

“You shouldn’t have even been out there! What if you’d been hurt?” Ghel seemed to have been arguing his point for a while because the look on Fili’s face when Bilbo entered the room was one of pure relief.

“Aunt, please let Ghel know that I’m alright.” Fili indicated their angry friend who was very red with anger and indignation. He may be older than Fili but he acted more immature than the younger Ereborian heir. 

“I can’t attest to that, dear,” Bilbo answered. She knew better than to get between these two in a tiff. Nirin laughed some more when Eruil had snuck under the table to startle Ghel. “I haven’t been able to check on you myself.” Turning towards her nephew Bilbo’s face settled in for a good scolding. “It was very foolish of you to go hunting around out there, Fili, you should know better than that!”

Bilbo knew that he could take care of himself, she’d witnessed him doing just as much while he was further along with Eruil – although he did have a painful birth when the lad had came along. Bilbo had only wished he’d take his health a little more seriously than he was. Oh sure he’d be quick to get the herbs he’d need for his attacks, or make a poultice for Erlen, or create teas to help her and her daughter fight colds, but he’d almost completely neglected his own health and the well-being of his child before the wee one could even decide to completely take root. 

So early on in his pregnancy, it had been Bilbo’s job to take care of the both of them. She’d assumed mother, caregiver and midwife when needed, yes, Fili was like her true nephew for everything that they’d been through. And despite Eruil not yet knowing his true heritage, they’d adopted each other as great-aunt and great-nephew. Eruil loved his new family, in fact, had not known any other family (or shown that he’d remembered any other family). Fili and his new, growing family made Bilbo so proud. But it was when he’d do silly little thing like hunting an animal in the middle of the night during a blizzard while pregnant that she’d feel so exasperated over his decisions. 

“Yes, but, Aunt,” Fili tried to continue before thick red tinted arms wrapped around him from behind. Fili saved himself from embarrassment by biting his lips to stop a squeak from escaping. His momentary look of surprise turned to a flush. “Good Morning, Erlen.”

“Good Morning.” Erlen kissed the side of Fili’s neck, where Bilbo saw a part of a love bite. She giggled her nephew’s way and allowed the two to continue greeting each other.

It had almost assaulted the southerner’s sensibilities when they’d found out that such public displays of affection were in fact encouraged in the North. Fili had fought with Erlen almost all summer to keep his hands to himself but soon gave in after scolding from Erska. Nothern etiquette was almost completely different than the South. There were still some similarities, however. The expectancy that males are the warriors were the same, but carrier’s roles were different (as they can lead and have a say in decision making); instead of just the carrier raising the child both male and carrier have a hand in raising and when the child reaches a certain age they begin following their carrier or male counterpart; courtship is the same (though being completely ignored by Fili and Erlen at this point). Just so many similarities followed by just as many if not more differences. 

When Erlen was done kissing and petting Fili, the poor lad seemed uncomfortable with his body’s reactions afterward. Bilbo would have made fun of him but Ghel put a stop to that again with his ranting. 

“Honestly, Erlen, I would have expected you to be angry with him!” Ghel came over towards the couple leaving Karsa with their newborn. Erlen took a step back from the frustrated carrier, hands up, while Fili looked nervously between Ghel and Erlen.

“Now, now, Ghel,” Fili tried to assuage Ghel by speaking in calming tones. “There’s no reason to get upset. I was only helping out.” Bilbo noticed his reaction to Ghel confronting Erlen and came to a nasty conclusion. 

Erlen doesn’t know yet.

And for whatever reason he doesn’t know yet, is Fili’s reason, but it could get dangerous for carrier and child if Fili kept on the way he was. Bilbo wanted to intervene and have Ghel back down then gently pull Fili off to the side and attempt to convince him to tell Erlen. But she knew that the stubborn dwarf wouldn’t reveal the good news. Bilbo had her suspicions why he was hiding it from Erlen, but they were only that, suspicions. So as Ghel was now pushing both Fili and Erlen into a corner Bilbo was forced to just let things go. Fili is going to have to tell Erlen sometime. 

“I’m quite upset with you as well, Fili, you should be staying here where it’s safe!” Ghel kept throwing a finger into the couple’s faces. Fili looked halfway to panicking and Erlen grinned out of nervous habit. 

“Safe?” Erlen asked, anxious giggle escaping his lips. “Then I assume that Karsa didn’t tell you that if it weren’t for Fili, we would both have ended up dead.” Bilbo saw Ghel’s shoulder’s stiffen with panic. 

“What?”

“Fili is the best fighter we may have in the North. Because he’s used to war he was the ideal hunter last night.” Erlen gripped Fili’s shoulders from behind, a show of support and pride, Fili never relaxed. 

“Tha-that’s no excuse.” Ghel stuttered out, his higher pitched voice shaking with anger or fear, Bilbo didn’t know. Ghel’s face was hidden from where Bilbo stood. The children had quietened and Bilbo could see Erska dictating what was going on to Erskin. “You should still be taking care of yourself.” Bilbo realized with Fili’s defeated drop of shoulders that he’d thought that Ghel would take the bait of distraction. “I suppose limping the way you are means you’re the best at taking care of yourself?”

“He’s not limping because of the snow-cat.” Erlen teased and Fili blushed from neck to hairline. 

“Wha-?” Ghel stepped back, clearly looking for a new angle. “No, you daft imbecilic bastard, your Fili is-“

“Don’t,” a deep reverberating voice rumbled through the breakfast hall. Everyone went still and quiet, even the children who ran to Bilbo’s skirts and hid their faces. The voice was threatening and sent shivers against Bilbo’s skin making it look like plucked goose flesh. She hadn’t heard such an angry voice since her last night in Erebor’s halls. “Call me,” Erlen emerged from behind Fili where he’d playfully hid, “imbecilic. I am no idiot, Ghel Ghelhoun, and for as much as Fili has disregarded his safety for the safety of you all – as a future chief would – you have forgotten to never accuse me of such things.”

Much like Gandalf was prone to standing tall and using his magic to make himself bigger than he was, Erlen seemed to have the same type of magic. He’d stood to his full height in front of Fili (who had taken up staring at his lover with wonder and a slight amount of fear) and stared down the smaller dwarf. Ghel was all but a shivering mess before the red-haired archer. Karsa slowly made his way to his husband and took him by the shoulders. 

“He’d meant no offense, Erlen,” Karsa held onto the carrier from behind wrapping his arms around Ghel’s chest. “Please, calm yourself, he’d only meant,” 

“I know what he meant to do, Karsa, and I don’t much like it.” Erlen’s voice still booming like thunder. Bilbo could feel each syllable he uttered shake her bones, the children dug their faces deeper into her skirts. Fili, meanwhile, paled far whiter than the glistening snow outside eyes wide in a deep seated fear. “My Fili is and always has been a fighter, he’s trained himself to be as strong and dependable as he is now and I wouldn’t have it any other way. My Fili should never have to worry about having to be kept inside this house when he’s best at filling a warrior’s role. I would be proud for my chief to be seen more as a protector than as some weak-wristed carrier who nags at his husband.”

Bilbo supposed that Erlen was meaning to protect his future husband rather than make him shirk in cold terror, but the latter seemed to all but wrap him in an inescapable blanket of fear. Fili very carefully, which is to say that no one noticed besides Bilbo because she was watching him, slide away from behind Erlen and to try to make his quiet way down the hall. Bilbo thought of something to take the focus off of her nephew. 

“Erlen,” Bilbo said as sternly as possible, she’d had practice with a mad, crownless king, she could definitely handle another pissed off dwarf – even if she’d never seen him this way. The red-head snapped his head up to Bilbo who began collecting the children into her arms. His glare made her jump and stiffen as a rabbit would under a fox’s hungry gaze. She couldn’t get the next words out of her mouth until a loud crash came from somewhere near the fire place. 

Erskin screamed in fright, his voice grating on the ears of everyone present. But the clay plate dropping and crashing to the stone floor was enough distraction for Fili to take off down the hall. Had she not known what Fili was wanting to do she’d never knew where he’d went, she’d taken her eyes off of Fili for a split second before picking up the children and quickly following Fili down the hall to his and Erlen’s room. Eruil had tucked his face against Bilbo’s neck, wet tracks of tears made their silent way down her neck and into her blouse, Nirin following and not letting her mother out of her sight. 

Once she’d gotten to the carved door she made a gentle knock before inviting herself in, confident that Fili knew it was her. Once inside Eruil squirmed out of her grasp and darted over to the bed to climb up into his papa’s arms where he began crying in earnest. Fili was visibly shaken and clutched onto his son for dear life. 

“Are you alright, my boy?” Bilbo asked quietly. Her voice was laced with a mother’s worry, one that made Nirin finally react and want to be picked up by Bilbo. The hobbit lass pulled her daughter up and into her embrace before coming to sit in front of Fili. The blond petted his son’s head against his chest, not allowing his own tears to be shed – though they desperately wanted to fall. 

“I’ll be fine.” Fili said in a clipped voice. Eruil’s tiny hands gripped harder onto his papa’s red vest, tears making the roughly woven wool darken in colour. Fili began rocking them both back and forth trying to soothe and comfort. 

Bilbo would always be surprised at a dwarf carrier’s ability to care for their child. Hobbit men have never had that ability, in fact, dwarves seem to be the only race where males can have children. Bilbo had heard horror stories of those carriers who lose their families and are sold as slaves, those who are misused, beaten, and treated horribly. It was no wonder that when she’d found out, on their journey, that Fili and at least two others were carriers that the rest of the males were very protective of them afterwards.

\--

Bilbo kept trying to bite her lip from moaning out loud. Here in the dark down the path a ways from where the others were camped Thorin had her skirts hiked up around her hips, traveling britches and small clothes pooled together on the ground. Thorin thrust with his might, his long cock brushing deep inside of her, his breath hot and moist on her neck where he lightly sucked and nibbled along her vein. Bilbo pulled at her breasts underneath her blouse, pinching her hardened nipples and wishing for Thorin’s talented mouth to be around them. He’d already come from underneath her skirts, his tongue teasing and torturing her causing her to beg him to be inside of her as he was now. This rough and quick claiming was just what they’d needed since after leaving Elrond’s house. 

“Thorin,” Bilbo moaned out as she could feel the head of his cock rub her insides deliciously. He groaned, more like growled, and she knew that he could tell she was close. He adjusted his hold on the backs of her knees, pressing them more against her chest as he pounded into her. Hips met hers in a wet slap and the noise of their lovemaking driving them both to new heights. Thorin dropped his head and nestled his nose between her swollen breasts. 

“Coming,” Thorin gave as warning, Bilbo knew he was going to try to pull out but she forced her legs out of his hold and wrapped her legs around his waist where he was then forced to bounce her. She fell deeper and harder against him and they both groaned with an animalistic need. A few more thrusts and Bilbo came around Thorin, her juices flowing out of her and coated Thorin’s shaft even more. He gripped around her waist and held her close to him while his wild thrusts made her want to scream from the over sensitization. His lips found hers just as she felt his cock jumping inside of her, spilling his hot seed deep. Her lips clenched, just as her legs were, as his throbbing erection spurted load upon load inside of her. What she thought was wonderfully dirty was that she could feel each ejaculation.

Without disconnecting Thorin dropped to his knees, where he held her and she held him. In the moonlight, just before the young princes would come looking for them (or stumble upon them in their own mad haste to relieve themselves), they were together, coupled as lovers would be, puffs of their breath visible from the moon’s rays. 

“I love you.” Bilbo had said, and not for the first time had Thorin not replied. He’d looked at her, sadly, as if he felt sorry for her, but would soon dispel himself, grip her tighter (but gently), against himself before devouring her lips. Stealing her breath and claiming more of her heart. She knew that for whatever dwarvish reason, he could never bring himself to say those three words back, but through little actions such as these, she knew that he was just as in love with her.

“We should get going.” Thorin said abruptly, puller her up and off of his lap (she hissed from cramped legs then groaned at the loss of him inside of her), and began redressing. “You’ll end up pregnant, if you keep making me complete inside of you.” Thorin said without embarrassment. And truly, did that male not become squeamish for anything?

“There’s no need to worry,” Bilbo began the easy lie, “I’m drinking a tea.” Was all she said. And true enough, she had her own stash up until the ponies had run before coming to Elrond’s house. But upon their arrival and her request for more tea, Elrond’s healer forbade her from taking anymore. Her smile felt thin even to her. “No need to worry, My King.”

Her repetition didn’t erase the hooded concern that Thorin had. She had missed the way his eyes softened when he gazed to her stomach, to where he knew that a child was already taking root. Thorin was no idiot, his want for silent dominance did not determine his intelligence as Bilbo was lead to believe. He’d seen, more like felt, her swelling in certain places. Perhaps it was she that was most in denial. 

“Still,” Thorin said, cinching his belt a little harsher than needed. “I wish not for an accident to occur.” He walked up towards her just as she was fluffing her skirts, held her gently around her waist and gazed deeply into her eyes. Bilbo felt a blush coming on as she could read every endearing thought and emotion Thorin was putting into his look. She didn’t dare look away lest he retract his feelings. “That’s why I will not be coming inside of you anymore.”

Bilbo blushed deeper, slapping a hand on his armored chest, his deep chuckle made her gut clench in want. She drew in her breath and uttered her reply before she lost her courage. “Not even if I swallowed it?”

It was his turn to blush, Thorin threw back his head and laughed, a true laugh, one that made his stomach tighten and his whole body moved when he did. Bilbo smiled and giggled when he drew her closer and sealed their lips in an earth shattering kiss. He stole her breath and a bit of her soul every time he did that. He drew her so close to him that her feet left the ground. When they separated he still didn’t release her, choosing, instead, to walk a few paces with her still wrapped in his arms and feet dangling. Anything to be closer to their growing child as well. 

“Perhaps then, when you swallow my seed whole.” Oh how he wanted to continue to breed her. To fuck her, love her, mate her, to perform every sexual and claiming act they could together and make her his. “With your slick still on my cock, you’ll swallow it all down, wouldn’t you, My Queen.”

“Stop, you, now.” Bilbo cut out. She was still so squeamish with such talk that it made her uncomfortable. But the thought of him doing such dirty things to her hadn’t quelled her lust for him. “You know, you should have wished me a male, so that I wouldn’t have any worry of c-carrying your child.” Bilbo was placed back down on the ground and she turned to lead the way back up the path, Thorin was frozen on the spot. 

“What do you mean?” Thorin asked, confusion painting his voice. 

“What do you mean, what do I mean?” Bilbo stopped and turned to her lover, her King. “Male. Hobbit man, a bachelor (if I were single), a person with a p-“

“I know what a male is, thank you.” Thorin still looked and sounded confused. The crickets singing in the autumn stained mountains were slow in filling the silence. “Can not your males reproduce?”

“Have you known any that can?” Bilbo scoffed, shook her head, and continued on up the path leaving a very confused Thorin. 

When Bilbo had reached camp she noticed that Fili and Kili were just arriving as well as they were only now rolling out their beds. Fili's face seemed to be etched in stone for all the thinking he was doing, Kili just as happy and oblivious as usual. Bilbo thought it strange until she remembered that Fili was trying to be the good prince Thorin expected him to be – if their late night arguing's and 'secret' meetings were to be believed. Yes, Fili was in quite some bit of trouble for him to have shaped up so quickly from the overly bright and good natured youth to the serious and contemplative young dwarrow he was now. Bilbo smiled, wondering what his childhood was like. Trained to fight with his numerous blades, histories, arithmetic, diplomacy, leadership, etiquette and about a thousand other things that she'd never know. Unless her and Thorin had their own child. 

Thorin had entered the camp and noticed his lover unconsciously rubbing her stomach. She was smiling while looking upon the two princes. Had she already figured it out? No, she couldn’t have. She seemed to have no clue. 

“Tell me, Burglar,” Thorin winced at the forced word. He hated using that pet name, as if he would happily use it to describe her. She was far more than a burglar, she was the spring rain, a summer storm, a gentle and hot autumn that lead to a viscous winter if provoked. She was the tender flowers he had taken for granted before meeting her, the luxurious caress of early summer grass, cool and loving. The flitting butterfly had nothing on her beauty and grace, even amongst dwarves and a harsh journey. She was everything fragile and precious, something that needed to be protected, not sneered at or treated as poorly as a meager burglar. “Do your people not have carriers?” 

The camp winced at his abruptness – he usually had more tact than that. But around her he lost all sense and sensibilities. Bilbo turned her head, lovely copper curls bouncing against her rosy cheeks in the firelight, her lovely arched eyebrows tilted in question. “What?”

“Sire,” Balin started, but Thorin's hand raised in a request for silence.

“Miss Baggins claims that her people do not have carriers.” Thorin watched as Fili, Dwalin and Nori's heads snapped up, Dori just looked on in pure bafflement. 

“How had that come up, I wonder?” Kili smiled and elbowed his brother playfully. Yes, Thorin was going to have a word with Fili on teaching his brother tact. 

“It matters not,” Thorin excused away feebly, “Is it true, though, that your males cannot give birth?”

“And I ask again, have you known one that has?” Bilbo smiled, as if she were speaking to a simple child. But she witnessed something then, that had spooked her more than knowing that orcs were on their trail. All the dwarves, Ori included, immediately surrounded Dwalin, Nori, Dori and Fili. She had jumped when she realized she had made yet another mistake, one that had offended the tetchy culture of dwarves. “What in Yavanna's name is going on?”

“Kili, stop,” Bilbo heard Fili exclaim, the brunette's hold on his brother was most possessive, something Bilbo would have laughed at had Kili's face not look so desperate. 

“You have no carriers?” Thorin asked again, as if _he_ were speaking to the child. 

“I don't know what you mean by carriers.” Bilbo whirled around when she'd heard Dori gasp. “Please, what is going on?” 

Thorin let out a long-suffering sigh, waved his hand to beckon his lover, and held her shoulders as if he were instructing a fauntling to jump into the water, expecting her to faint. 

“Bilbo,” Thorin began before correcting himself, “Miss Baggins,” Bilbo winced at his substituting her name, a name that he'd cried out in pleasure and whispered softly into her ear when no one else was around, with one that he'd used as if a shield to protect him from his enemies. “Dwarven males are separated by two certain distinctions. One, a dwarrow of whom is the protector and foundation of a wholesome family. Two, a dwarrow of whom can give birth and, whereupon they give birth, loose their strength as a dwarrow and would then need the protection of his mate. Fili and Dori are of the latter.”

“And Dwalin and Nori?” Bilbo asked, following with the cunning of a councilwoman but with the perplexed nature of the ignorant. 

“One of them are a carrier, but we don't know whom.” Thorin's mouth twitched in a smile, one that Bilbo would have begged to see him make for her in front of the company. “They keep it very secret.”

“But I don't understand,” Bilbo shook herself out of Thorin's hold, walked up to Kili and Fili and yanked the younger dwarrow off the elder. She made to draw her weapon and with Fili's quick reactions pulled his knives as well as those dwarrows around him. His eyes were calculating and fearful in the same space. “What makes carriers, Fili, so much more inferior than Ori or Kili (no offense boys)?” 

“He's strong now.” Thorin's voice deepened, as if he'd been personally offended. Bilbo realized that her hand had pulled her tiny sword out of the scabbard by half the length. “But as soon as he or any other carrier give birth, they loose their strength and are to take up dwarrowdam responsibilities.” Thorin had said it so matter-of-factly that Bilbo looked stricken.

“A dwarrowdam, eh?” Bilbo's cheek twitched in a smile. She left the admittedly intimidating wall of dwarves and approached the King. “A dwarrowdam, you mean to say Fili will someday take up knitting? No offense Ori.” 

“Yes.” Thorin looked like a proud tutor with his student. “Cooking, feeding, and raising the children. Though Fili will have a wife, he will not give birth lest he wish to deny himself the throne and a chance to rule.” To Bilbo that last part had sounded like a threat, a promise of sorts and of an old argument.

“Weaker, in essence, to dwarrows?” Bilbo sounded like a simple fool. 

“YES! Bilbo, carriers and women are weaker than men!”

SLAP!

The sound reverberated off the cliff walls and carried on through what little scrub were scattered at the base of the mountain. Bilbo's hand had stung as if she had struck a stone – and if legend were to be believed, dwarves were once stone. The whole camp gasped, some drew weapons, and others began to snicker. This was about to become the row of all rows. 

“And pray tell, what makes a woman inferior to a man?” Bilbo stood to her full height, hand throbbing and burning from striking Thorin across the cheek. “Do not your legends have female warriors? Heroes amongst the weaker race? Can not a woman give birth in silence where a man will deafen others with his complaints about his work day? Can not a woman cook, clean, raise children, go to the market, stitch clothing, fix the roof, draw maps, write books, deal with family, and care for her husband all in one day? What about that makes a woman inferior? Do not your carriers have to do the same? Only they must give up their life as a dwarrow rather than just their name and their families once married. How is it that out of all the Hobbits you could have hired and scouted that you landed with me? Not only am I of inferior race but of inferior sex.” Bilbo's chest was red with anger, her neck prickled painfully while the adrenaline seeped out as sweat. “Tell me again, how these dwarves that are carriers in the same, are weaker and therefore not as trusted to protect as the other dwarrows just because they can have children.”

Bilbo stared down her King, her lover, and the simple fool that called himself leader. He looked between her and Dwalin, his most trusted guard and most feared warrior, to Nori, the best spy and assassin that Thorin had never heard of, to Dori whose physical strength outranked Dwalin, then to Fili, who was nimble, quick witted and had beaten all odds by simply surviving and conquering a child illness that should have took his life. And suddenly Thorin felt the bigot.

“Women are not inferior.” Bilbo backed away, making to go to her bed roll and begin laying down for the night. “Nor are they superior.” as a last stab, she looked to Balin, who had just told her a story of particular interest last night. “Has not a dwarf been split _equally_ in half then left to find their mate? How has your Maker made a mistake in not creating the dwarrow bigger than the carrier?”

And just like that, the dwarves of Thorin's Company had drawn their allegiance to a small and peculiar Hobbit.

–

Bilbo wanted to laugh at her remembering something like that. But with Fili still shaking like a leaf in front of her and both children crying in fear, she remembered just how angry Erlen had sounded when Ghel accused Fili of not being strong enough. 

“Fauntling,” Bilbo lifted her hand to stroke the side of Fili's face, his eyes red from unshed tears, Eruil burrowing further into his papa's embrace. “I'm sure there is some sort of misunderstanding.”

“Aunt,” Fili interrupted. “This isn't about dwarrows and carriers again,” so he recalled the same memory as hers. “you heard him, he doesn't want me to be pregnant.”

He'd finished the end of his sentence with a whisper, fear taking his strength. “Do does not want me to have children. We've broken protocol as it is, now I'm pregnant with no husband, AGAIN!”

Fili yelled, startling Eruil in his arms, and began cooing to the half-elf child. Fili let his tears flow unabashed. 

“I do not think he's against it, Fili,” Bilbo tried to reason. She watched as Nirin crawled over to Fili, crawled up onto his lap and wrapped her small arms around Eruil, black, curly hair against straight, pale blond hair. 

“He is, of course he is why shouldn't he?” Fili wrapped his arms around his baby cousin and held the children tightly to himself. “I'm a foreigner, a carrier, a killer, and a dwarf with many secrets.” Bilbo understood that much, a person of 'The Night Watch' always had secrets. “What if he finds out, aunt? What if he finds out and throws us out as Uncle had done? Once again, in the winter. I don't think I could do it again. I know I've messed up, I don't know how to let my self love and be loved, I'm careful with my heart and I'm too protective of my family. I'm not a prince anymore, I'm just a commoner who's pregnant out of wedlock again. Like some whore.”

“You listen here, Fili my boy, you are not a whore, that dwarf in there loves you! And I don't know where his anger stemmed from but by the looks of it he isn't some push around like I thought he was.” Fili gave Bilbo a look, “Yes, I thought he was a pushover. The point is, when enoughs enough he'll let you know. Had he not done the same when we'd first arrived? When you'd killed those dwarves sent here to kill us all? He's let you know when he was upset with you. He would never let you on, he'll always be there for you. Has he not taken in Eruil as his own son? Has not this family taken us all in as their own?”

Fili sniffed in Nirin's hair, she leaned back and glared at her older cousin before Fili laughed at her. “I suppose you're right.” Fili sighed heavily and pet his son who was fighting sleep, chubby little fingers in his mouth while Nirin pulled at his hair to practice plaiting the way they'd seen the Northerner's do. “But what if I'm right?” 

“Then we'll kick his arse together.” Bilbo smiled, and pulled her daughters hands away from Eruil's lengthening hair, silky strands floating much like his father's did. “But I doubt that will happen.” 

Fili smiled when Bilbo leaned over to hug him and kiss his crown. The door creaked slowly, indicating someone was coming in. Fili turned and saw the red-headed bear enter the room. He'd gone stiff but relaxed almost instantly when he noticed that Erlen was blushing. 

“I'm sorry for my outburst, love.” Erlen looked down at his adopted son's tear streaked face, “And I'm sorry for scaring the children, Aunt Bilbo, you too. I guess I'm still sensitive to those names.”

“You're forgiven, my dear,” Bilbo looked to Fili who had become intensely quiet to which Eruil had translated to not trusting his adad. Eruil looked from his papa to his adad and begun crying, pushing himself away from Erlen, the look on the larger dwarfs face was one of intense pain and guilt. 

“I'm so sorry, little tyke.” Erlen tried approaching Eruil whom only screamed and clutched at his papa. 

“It's okay, son,” Fili cooed once again. He stood with Eruil and bounced him, slowly approaching Erlen. “It's okay, look.” Fili tip-toed up to meet Erlen's lips giving him a chaste kiss. “All better, look.”

Fili kept kissing Erlen in intervals. Bilbo smiled at how quickly Eruil was calming, then laughed when he'd jumped into Erlen's arms and tried to kiss him too. Erlen complied, kissing and blowing raspberries all over his son's face. Eruil squealed with joy. 

Bilbo looked on the growing family with all the love an adopted aunt could have. Longing weighed heavy in her heart, wishing that she could have that with someone. But the cold realization came when she tried imagining herself with a Northerner of her own. A red-haired male, not too tall, lean, fit, and with big hands that could hold her and her daughter with all the strength he had. But she couldn't, all she could think of was a certain Southerner with silver streaked hair, ice blue eyes, a chest wide enough to make a bed out of, and arms that held her with the strength and care that she craved. Suddenly, watching the loving family in front of her became too painful. 

She gathered her daughter, who was also huffing at the lost attention from Eruil, and proceeded down the hall to relate to Ghel about Fili's fears of telling Erlen just yet. But when she'd turned the corner of the wood carved hall with it's lovely coppers, golds and reds, she'd instantly been brought to green marbled halls, tall and towering over her, intimidating her into a awesome submission, gold glited torchlights bouncing off the high polished walls, the echo of a small company of dwarves filling those long dead cavernous halls. She'd breathed in a gasp, and smelled the char of dragon fire on stone, of the burn of gold on marble, and the tang of metal and beast. Then she'd breathed in a scent she'd thought she'd forgotten. 

Ozone infused trees, ancient pine that had been struck by lightning, the sour of male, the stain of white hot coal, and all the comforting emotions that came with the smell. It was of protection, a scent that would instantly relax her and excite her all in the same. Already she could feel the blood pumping in her veins, her breasts tingled in pleasure as the rough wool of her garments scratched at them. She felt as strong, furred arms wrapped around her, cradling her against his chest. If she leaned back she could feel the rise of his chest, the hardness of a warriors muscles, of a blacksmith's strength. If she sought it out she could feel his chapped lips on hers, could see the burn of ecstasy and love creating a fever in him that only she could slake. 

Then, just in that one breath that she'd experienced a home so far away, she'd been abruptly brought back to a dwarfs smial in the ground. To the warm, rich stained wood, carved with beautiful stories and crests. She'd been quickly brought to the fire warmed hostle with no king. And even though she loved this new family, these people and this culture, she'd instantly become homesick. Hand to her mouth she shouted out a cry of pain, an arrow piercing her heart, of ice striking into her limbs to make them heavy and immobile. Her shout caught everyone's attention, Fili the first one to her with Erlen close behind. She cried and shouted and sobbed and couldn't breath. Panic, this was how Fili felt, she couldn't breath, she was going to die before seeing the Shire, the magic of Mirkwood, or the mystery of Erebor ever again. She was going to die while her daughter went on, alone in an uncaring world where her father did not know she existed. 

She would die alone. She would die without the one that she most desperately, most ardently was in love with. Worst, she would die without him ever knowing she was gone from this world. Yavanna send a word to your husband, that his children's Hobbit Queen had died.


	21. Bilb's Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's going to be a large time jump here in a bit. Or would you rather hear a little more about Erlen's culture? semi-unique as it is. 
> 
> Sorry it took so long uploading this chapter. I've just finished school and now I'm free! Until i find a job. 
> 
> Enjoy! And welcome back.

Bilbo kept reminding herself to breath as Fili cooled the tea he'd just brewed for her. It wasn't the tea that he usually uses for himself, but it was calming. She sipped the hot liquid when Fili gave over the cup, her fingers tingled from the heat. The aroma itself helped her to calm down. 

"I'm fine," Bilbo persisted watching as Erlen paced in the kitchen behind her nephew. Both eyes carefully traced her body for injuries. 

"You feinted," Fili argued. He stood from where he was sitting across from her, in the kitchen where Erlen had brought her to. 

"I'm fine," Bilbo pursed her lips and fixed her skirt for distraction. 

Nirin and Eruil were both sleeping, thankfully, when Fili and Erlen heard Bilbo collapse in the hall. Fili had panicked, Bilbo wasn't the type to suddenly start feinting - recently. Fili had Erlen bring her into the kitchen, by then she was awake and breathing heavily. 

"What happened, aunt?" Fili spoke low, afraid he'd wake anyone else up in the house. 

"Oh, for Yavanna's sake," Bilbo placed her tea on the table and threw her hands. "I am fine, my boy."

"Aunt," Erlen tried stepping behind Fili and placing his wide hands on the blond's shoulders in support. We just want to make sure you're okay. I'm sure hobbits don't make a habit of feinting."

Bilbo huffed again and crossed her arms over her chest. She began bitting her lip when it seemed that the boys weren't going to let this go. Bilbo was thankful that the boys cared for her enough to keep pressing the issue, but the fact was, is that Bilbo was embarrassed that she was still thinking of Thorin. Even after everything that had happened. 

"Hobbits love more than once," Bilbo started out, realizing that there was no way out of this. "We don't have 'One's' or a great, intense love that burns hotter than a summer sun. We love gently, and compassionately, and definitely like how I did with, you know," she indicated to Fili. She wasn't sure how much she wanted to say, mostly because she knew she couldn't save secrets worth her life. "What I felt for Nirin's father was something I wasn't used to, but I was in love. And it was the kind of love that you dwarves have.

"I think why I feinted, Fili, is because I thought I was walking the halls of Erebor." Bilbo sniffed, trying to keep from crying, "I could still smell the dragon, feel the coldness of the halls from a long sleep, and I missed it. I missed it more than I had ever missed my home in the Shire. Most of all, my boy, I miss him." 

Bilbo began crying after her confession. Fili thought that she was able to move on, much like he had from everything that was Erebor. It was surprisingly hard not to think of his uncle and brother and of a mother he hadn't seen in almost two years before being banished. He missed being able to say their name, but the cold burn on his tongue and heart had soothed over with his son and lover's names. It took Fili a few minutes to regain his composure, all the while Erlen squeezed his shoulders in sympathy. Bilbo missed her lover, Fili missed his family, and together they had ended up in the northern wilds. 

Bilbo's desperate sob's filled the whole room and most likely drifted down the hall to the children. The hobbit turned dwarrowdam had always been careful at hiding how much she hurt. After her parents' death that fell winter she had promised herself she would never cry again out of desperation for a person. She absolutely didn't expect to fall in love with a handsome wandering king and his kin. Her control had slipped, if only for a moment, and caused her to want to shout in pain. The physical ache of missing her lover, her child's father, was hollowing and brutal. Like termites slowly eating away at the beams of her smial, it was all ready to collapse at the next slip up.

There was a pain in Bilbo's throat from trying to hold back more tears, and as she wiped them away she realized that she wasn't the only one affected. Fili bit his lip to try to hold back his own emotions and Erlen carefully gauged his lover. 

"Aunt, I know about Fili's banishment, I know why you were also banned from that southern kingdom. I'm sorry you hurt so much," Erlen came around his lover and drew up next to Bilbo before kneeling down to take her small hands into his. "I'm sure, he regret's ever doing this to you."

"Oh, coals and pick axes, Erlen," Bilbo cursed in the southern way, Erlen twitched, remembering that Fili uses such words to express his frustration too. "That's what hurts, too. But he couldn't help himself, could he? And all I was doing was trying to save him. And why would he want to feel sorry for-for having a thief banished from the mountain?"

"Bilbo, surely he knew that you were with child? Dwarrows sometimes react out of anger-"

"No, Erlen, the king's word is law. There's no arguing or rescinding the decree once it's been struck to stone. Even if he is of the right state of mind to remember that he once loved me, it's over, it's done," Bilbo hiccuped, sounding as if she was going into hysterics. "Besides, he doesn't know."

"Doesn't know," Erlen echoed carefully.

"That I was carrying his child when he had us thrown out into the cold." 

 

\--

 

Fili was tired by the time they reached their bedroom, Eruil and Nirin were sleeping with Bilbo in her room while the two argued some more. It was taxing Fili and he suddenly wished that he could excuse himself by being sick. He hadn't had any morning or evening sickness yet, not like he did while he was pregnant with Eruil, but he was sure it was coming. It was still early enough and perhaps it would show later in his months. Perhaps he himself wouldn't show until later months, give the weather enough time to clear up before they were sent packing through the Northern spring passages.

"Erlen, come to bed," Fili called but the red head didn't hear him.

"He doesn't know." Erlen almost whispered. "Your uncle doesn't know that Bilbo has had his child."

"Erlen,"

"There's hope for them, Fili," Erlen turned, golden eyes gleaming in the candlelight like a pair of cat eyes. "We could make the journey together, we could change your uncle's mind!"

"NO!" Fili sat up harshly from his slouching in the bed. "Erlen, you don't understand, do you?"

Erlen stood at the end of the bed, bewildered at Fili's loud insistence. "My love, you're right, I don't understand why you won't just tell her."

"Can't you see how it's effecting her, just now?" Fili swept his hand towards Bilbo's room. "If I told her the truth it would destroy her."

"So instead of telling her that you had a hand in orchestrating everything, including your own banishment, you're just going to let her suffer here?" Erlen could feel his temper rising, much like it had earlier when Ghel accused him of being simple. It was a dangerous place to be in, considering that Fili wouldn't mind fighting back. "She needs her lover, your uncle, elsewise she may go mad. Or, possibly, die of a broken heart, wouldn't you feel sorry then?"

"Stop!" Fili grabbed the sides of his head, "Just stop, Erlen! I made a promise! That promise was to protect her from Erebor and keep her and Nirin safe. I can't take back that promise even for the life of me and my children!"

Fili covered his mouth at his mistake. His tongue had moved without his wanting it to and it was going to cause so much trouble for him and his family, Bilbo included. His aunt wasn't the one attached to anyone here in the north, no, instead it was Fili himself who had gone and gotten himself partially betrothed. His status was still so uncertain that even Erska wasn't sure what their status was. Sure Erlen and Fili had promised one another a married life, shared a son, and now had created a second child. But that was the ratchet in the gears, they had fallen off the course of a proper courtship and wedding that legally they could be married any moment, but weren't.

Now, with Fili's current admission it was about to go bullocks up quickly.

"You're children?" Erlen repeated hesitantly. His face was glowing red, as if he were holding his breath or the pulse of his heart was about to make his head explode. "Fili, my dear," the endearment somehow sounded like a curse from his dark lips. Fili shook with fear. "If you have- if you have any more secrets you wish to depart from, you'd best tell me now."

The silence following was heavy, it was hard for Fili to breath, for many reasons. His fear of being caught, his surprise at Erlen assuming the worst of him, again, and the Panic felt like a punch in the lungs. 

"Erlen, I-" it was now or never. Fili Deathsong, afraid of a little admission, afraid of the size of the dwarf- of which he'd slay larger foe. He closed his eyes, deciding that he didn't want to see Erlen's reaction. "I'm pregnant."

Eyes closed Fili waited for Erlen to say something, to do something, storm out of the room, attack Fili, drag he and his son out into the bitter cold along with Bilbo and her daughter. Fili waited for anything to come his way and when large arms wrapped around Fili and lifted him up from the bed he didn't even cry out. He knew this would happen, he knew that-

"A child!" Erlen bellowed and twirled Fili around the room. "We're having a child! Praise Mahal! Praise the ancestors!" Erlen put Fili back on his feet in the center of the room, the flagstaff's freezing underneath the blond's feet. "Why didn't you tell me sooner that you were pregnant? Is that what Ghel was worrying about?"

Fili looked at his lover quizzically, wasn't there supposed to be cursing and tossing out of certain residents? Erlen looked like he was the happiest dwarf Fili had ever seen, his face had broken out into a large smile about splitting his face in half. The large, red-headed dwarf's eyes glowed, lit with a strange fire that was almost unrecognizable to Fili. Except that he'd seen it before in his uncle's eyes the day that Fili had gained his place amongst the Watch and pledged his loyalty and servitude to the King alone. 

The room felt like it had expanded, instead of closing in on him like he'd begun to feel like it was doing. 

"You are not angry?" The doubt colored Fili's voice and brought it low, soft, and quiet. 

"Angry?" Erlen asked while placing his large hands over his lover's, nay, his child's carrier's shoulders. "My love, why would I be angry with you?"

"Perhaps it's because I'd gone after that harupt, knowing that I was with child, or that I kept it from you, or- or that I'm pregnant at all." Fili was exhausted, he couldn't keep up with all the guessing that it took to gauge his lover's moods. Erlen wasn't as up and down like Fili was prone to, but Erlen did react strangely to certain things. He would cry over the death of a lamb before ever complaining about a cut he'd received from hunting. Erlen could bleed out all over the place and not blink, but as soon as an 'innocent' was involved, the red-head was a sap.

"Fili," Erlen pulled the shorter dwarrow against him, rubbing his back in a warm embrace. "I love you, and unless you've a hidden child with your brother then I can't see myself ever not loving you." the larger dwarf stood back and framed Fili's with his large hands. Fili looked about ready to cry and all Erlen wanted to do was celebrate by making love while their shared child was elsewhere. 

"No," Fili said through a dry sob, "no other children. I promise."

Erlen leaned down and sealed his lips over Fili's, he drew out the kiss until they were both hard and moaning into one another. Erlen could feel when Fili began to thrust against his thighs, digging his erection into him. Hands traveled sensuously down Fili's back and groped a very firm ass, pulling him closer to Erlen, then lower underneath Fili's arse and pulled the Southerner up. Fili's legs instantly wrapped around his lover's wide hips. Riding Erlen was similar to riding a nag, Erlen was that wide. But Fili couldn't get enough of him.

Fili's tongue dove deeper into Erlen's mouth, plunging past teeth and fighting with the other's muscle. Erlen's erection was standing against the breeches he usually wore to bed, pointing up and prodding against Fili's opening. Hips thrusting up and against the tight ring of muscles, needing, suddenly, to find release inside his lover. Erlen wanted to spend his seed inside of Fili over and over again until he was swollen with another child. If he could, he would breed Fili, so fine and fair, until they could start their own tribe.

"Oh, Fili," Erlen carried his lover over to their bed, not even messing with the sheets, and begun stripping from breeches and shirts. "I want to breed you out,"

A bolt of lightning shot through Fili, tingling raged through his body and settled in his bullocks. Fili could feel himself getting wet, his body preparing itself to being fucked. 

"Breed me, then, you animal." Fili grinned around his kissing and captured Erlen's lip between his teeth. "Fuck me until you come inside me. Spend you seed in me. Make a mess of me."

Fili's unusual requests set a fire in Erlen's groin, and he suddenly wanted to comply to everything that Fili requested. Erlen could imagine exactly what he wanted to do to Fili's pregnant body. He wanted to explore Fili's depths with his mouth, like and suck him clean from between his legs, he wanted to watch the smaller dwarf convulse and come around his tongue. Then, he would kiss his lover soundly, lips still wet with Fili's slick, and force his needy lover to swallow his own juices. And just as he was marking Fili's neck with kiss-bruises he'd enter his lover, spreading him around his thick shaft until Fili gasped and groaned wickedly. Then he would send praises in the form of kisses while he thrusted in and out, breeding his lover just as he said he would. 

These were all fine plans, one's he was sure that Fili would enjoy thoroughly. But the creaking of their door made Erlen cover what nakedness his lover showed with his body. They looked over towards the door, expecting their shared child but was just as equally unsurprised to see Erskin walking in and curling up in the rocking chair near the fire. Erlen's erection wilted painfully, but h still laughed against Fili's neck and kissed the marks he'd just made. 

"I'm sorry, my love." Erlen worked his way up to Fili's mouth and gave a chaste kiss, expressing his apology where words couldn't.

"It's fine, Erlen," Fili smiled. "Until morning."

They'd redressed and entered into bed, holding one another. Erlen was behind Fili rubbing the blond's stomach possessively. They drifted off, dreaming of when their child would be welcomed into the world.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't mind critisism, I just don't like the flame.


End file.
